02
by qarlgrimes
Summary: June Adams is confused. June Adams is 242 years into the future, having been kidnapped by some batty Scientist. June Adams is able to do things she really shouldn't be able to do. You know what else? June Adams is freaking the hell out, and the moody Southern Doctor is completely ruining her attempt to stay zen. MCCOY/OC. STRONG SWEARING, ADULT THEMES. INSPIRED BY STRANGER THINGS.
1. Rock You Like A Hurricane

**I've watched TOS, read up a lot on the wiki, and have of course watched the reboots, so I try hard to stay true to the Star Trek facts. Still, I will change a few things to fit my story. Also, excuse what little knowledge I have on the world of Engineering. Additionally, I took a lot of inspiration from Stranger Things for this story. You'll see what I mean in future chapters. I write for fun! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! My tumblr is qarlgrimes!**

 **Also, I love 70's/80's music, so deal with that.**

* * *

 _Here I am_  
 _Rock you like a hurricane_  
 _Here I am_  
 _Rock you like a hurricane_

Rock You Like A Hurricane - Scorpions

* * *

25 days.

That's how long I have been in this...place.

I don't know how I got here. I don't know _why_ I am here. There's only one person who comes into the small, dimly lit room they're keeping me in. She's not exactly the chattiest of people, so I tend to keep my mouth shut whenever she comes in to draw blood, or give me food. Sometimes, she'll slip me something, and I'll find myself falling into a sleep. When I wake up, it's with a killer headache, more pricks in my arm, and marks on my wrists like I've been tied down.

All not great signs of hospitable hosts. Still, I think washed me in those times. I always woke up with damp hair and clean teeth. At first. I felt violated beyond beneath. I wanted to be sick. After a while, I was almost thankful to the fucking creeps that they were keeping me clean.

For the first three days, I was terrified. I screamed. I cried. I tried so hard to uncuff my hands from the odd shackles around my wrist, that I'm pretty sure I nearly broke a few fingers. In those days, they must have been fixing things, because the lights in my room kept flickering. Maybe there was construction going on? I mean, in all honestly, my reaction was probably fucking _chill_ compared to what it _could_ have been. What would you do, if you woke up in a damp and dark room, with no windows, no means of natural light, with only a rubber mattress pushed into the corner and a toilet next to it?

I would like to highlight that the last thing I remember is taking a shot of tequila in some shitty club near my University. In retrospect, this was probably a fucking terrible idea. I was, in fact, three months away from finishing my Masters in Biomedical Engineering, and after a gruelling few days of working on manipulating organism's genes on a molecular level through the field of genetic engineering, I had needed a fucking drink.

I think I had fallen flat on my face in the space between me stumbling to the toilet, through the masses of sweaty students. Huh. I guess that's the last thing I remember. Yeah. _That's_ the last thing I remember before waking up in this room.

I had gathered only titbits of information. The woman who came into my room spoke English. Although she had never spoken to me, or even acknowledged my sneering comments, I could see recognition in her eyes on the sparse occasions that I through questions or insults her way. She was clean, so that told me she had somewhere to wash and sleep. Her brown hair was always pulled into a tight bun, and she always wore latex, blue gloves. That, and the fact that she had some kind of shiny, curved looking gun at her side. That alone was pretty fucking terrifying. We didn't have _guns_ in freaking Oxford.

It's funny, at first I thought I had been taken by some crazy black market dudes. You know, like the ones who cut out your liver and sold it?

There were other people in this place, too. A few times, when she slipped open the door to bring me food or knock me out and do God knows what to me, I would hear voices in the hallway outside. A few times, I had caught English words. That was good. I was still in the UK.

I don't know where else I thought I could be.

The technology they had was _good._ Mad, even. I could not, still, understand the cuffs that my wrists were held in. They were a metal, white circles around each of my wrists, with nothing connecting them. Yet, I could only pull my hands a meter apart before something invisible seemed to stop them. No science, nor engineering, nor _fact_ could explain this.

I couldn't focus on this too much, though.

They were doing things to me. After 25 days, I can't even begin to understand what the hell these people want with me, or why they took me (or _how_ they did), but on the few occasions the silent woman would grab my arm, give me a look, and shove some clear cylinder object against my bare arm, I would black out. When I wake up, groggy and pissed off, I would have more indents on my arms form injections, a banging headache, and an aching in my nose like something had been shoved up there.

To make matters even fucking worse, they had taken my bloody clothes. The dress had cost a fucking bomb on my student budget, but don't even get me started on those damn shoes. Those shoes were about the only thing I owned that weren't broken, scuffed, or sticky from nightclub floors.

So, I do as I usually do. I curl against the far wall, away from the metal door that, after three days, I had figured out had no physical lock, but some kind of number tapped in on the other side (judging from the slight beeping I heard before the woman would enter).

I stare at the wall opposing me. I think of my parents. I think of my friends who I had been out with.

I wait for someone to find me.

* * *

I don't know what time it ever is.

I always guess, to be honest.

In all honesty, I could have been here for thirty days. Twenty-five is a guess, from the amount of times that I've fallen asleep, and for how long. Having a constant stream of 9 AM classes has made my sleeping pattern that of a 90 year old.

I know something is off, though, when the door opens and she slips in. She's wearing her usual white coat, with those clunky brown shoes and the funny looking gun at her side. Her blue eyes assess me for a moment, and this alone is weird as shit. Normally, she casts me only one look, dumps the plate of whatever vegetable and meat I was having that day, and slides from the room after a quick blood-test.

Now, though, she stares at me with her jaw set and her hair surprisingly loose around her narrow face.

I blink. I stare. I edge back against the wall. '... _What?'_ I croak. 'Quit staring at me, Creepy'.

Creepy was her nickname.

She continues to stare. The plate in her hand shakes a little,and my eyes dart to it. _She's_ shaking. Shit. I look back to her face, my brow furrowed and my knees drawn to my chest. Finally, she heaves a small sigh, walks forward, and places the metal plate in the middle of the room. As she stands straighter, her eyes land on me once again. 'You have an hour,' she says, and I jump so violently that the back of my head hits the metal grate behind me.

25 days. No one had spoken directly to me in 25 days.

I stare at her, mouth open and heart hammering. 'Um...pardon?'

She backs up, blue eyes unblinking. 'In the chicken'. She nods at the plate of food. I follow her gaze, before looking back up to her, still utterly baffled. 'I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry we did this to you. It chose you, not us'. She backs up, hand finding the door and pulling it open. 'They'll be here soon. Remember that I...' She trails off. Her gaze is...guilty. Well, shit. A bit late for remorse, Creepy. 'Remember that I was the one to call them. I am _sorry,_ girl'.

With that, she steps back and allows the door to slide shit behind her.

A full fifteen seconds later, I am staring at the plate, then the door, then the plate, and then the door.

'...Okay. _What?'_

* * *

It takes twenty minutes for me to eat. Had what she said about the chicken been some kind of warning? Had they poisoned it this time? Was this a test of some sort? Was Creepy just fucking with me, as some weird torment?

Still, after twenty minutes of my stomach rumbling, I decide that I'm hungry and that I don't fucking care what Creepy was playing at.

I crawl towards the plate, hands awkward in front of me, and slide the metal plate toward me. Carrots and chicken breast. Yum. They never gave me utensils. So, like an animals, I eat the carrots first, taking special notice of the test...the texture. Then, the chicken. I tear at it as usual. I chew and watch the door, going over her words. _An hour? Who would come in an hour?_

It is then that I feel something hard beneath my fingers.

I jump, thinking for a moment that the chicken is off and feel sick, before noting the metallic looking object poking from the meat. And, so like me, I ignore the fact that this is fucking disgusting, and I instead pull the object out.

It's long, thin, with a round point at the end.

I stare at it.

Then I stare at it some more.

'What the fuck,' I mutter. 'What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?'

Shockingly, no one answers.

I flop back into a kneel, balancing the little object between my dirty fingers. After banging and scraping at the walls for the first four days of me being here, my hands had seen better days. Considering I worked with such delicate material constantly, I usually kept my nails and hands in pristine condition. What would Professor Daul do if he saw me now, huh?

And then, it clicks.

I jut out my arms, flipping them so my forearm is facing to the cracked ceiling. There, on the underside of the circle enclosed on my right wrist, is a small, circular hole. Without a moment hesitation, without even thinking whether this is a trap, or some fucking up kind of torture, I manoeuvre my hands in an oh-so awkward manner and slip the metal object into the hole.

There is a beep, a feeling of my arms being pushed apart, and then both circles unclasp from around my wrists.

'Holy shit,' I mutter.

Without a moments hesitation, I fly to my feet, shake the plate free of food, and start for the door. _Would she have...could she have? If she let me unlock my handcuffs, then maybe..._ And, sure enough, with an easy push to the door, it slips open just barely. I jolt back, and the door slips shit. I am, despite my desperate need to get out of this damp, dark and all together fucking horrible room, suddenly way in over my head.

I felt like I was in a freaking movie.

I was an _engineer._ My future held a career of tissue, genetic and neural engineering; of tinkering with medical devices that would one day aid in disease diagnoses, cures, treatment, and prevention. I was from a sleepy village in the East of England, where I was both smart and idiotic at the same time. I drank, I read, I stumbled my way into the best University in the UK in one of the best degrees. But that, not in any way, meant that I was prepared to throw myself into a fucking life or death situation.

 _But you have to. Everyone is probably wondering where you are. You have to get out of here._

I couldn't hear any noise on the other side of the door; no indication that any of the people who were keeping me here were on the other side, just waiting for me to take the bait and step out into the hallway. What would I do when I was on the other side? What if they had me underground...what if the exits were all locked with the odd, beeping locks that my door held? Well, then I would be well and truly fucked, wouldn't I?

 _Maybe you should stop thinking of every way this could go badly, and just step into the hallway._

And, with that thought in mind, I give the door a final push.

It swings open easily, and I am met with a near blinding light. After the near month locked away in that dingy and dark room, a freaking candle would have probably burnt away my retinas. I squint and rub at my eyes, my bare feet cold against the floor as I step back once again. Blinking into the hallway, I hold the door, my heart hammering, my limbs frozen-

There is no one _there._

Thank _fuck._

The hallway is long and well lit, with dark, shiny flooring and white walls. The light seems to be coming from _no where,_ but then I see thin strips of artificial light streaming from the ceiling. I blink, bemused and creeped out. What the hell was this place? Stepping forward, I glance at the rusted metal numbers sitting idly in the middle of the door that had kept me locked away for 25 days.

 _02._

I blink.

And then, it's like adrenaline surges through me; sudden fear that this is my only chance to get out of this damn place. I take a larger step forward and, _finally,_ I am standing in the hallway - I am out of that damn room. I nod, almost to myself, and glance left, then right. How the hell should I know which way would lead me to freedom? Why the hell didn't the woman give me some more clues, outside of a key locked in a damn chicken breast?

 _Why_ did she let me out, anyway?

I voice filters down the hallway, so quiet and echoing that the person it belonged to must be ages away. Despite this, I trip back and yelp, my heart jumping in my chest. Above me, the lights flicker, and my feet begin moving on their own accord.

Left. I go left.

The hallways are empty, but voices linger around me. How many of them are there here? How big is this place? I hold the metal plate in my hand closer to my chest; ready to strike in case anyone finds me. Yeah, bad guys, don't fuck with me. I have a _plate._

And then, just as I am rounding the corner to another hallway, what seems like dozens of voices shouting in the distance erupt, just as the white lighting above me turns an angry red, and sirens blare. I jolt, feet suddenly thumping against the shiny black flooring as I run; hurtling around a new corner into what seems like an identical hallway. _This place is a fucking maze!_ And those sirens...those red lights...that can only mean that they have noticed that I've gone, right? Maybe it _was_ a test, maybe that woman was seeing how trustworthy I was-

 _Doesn't matter. You need to try._

The voice that told me to drink, allowed stupid sentences to fall out of my mouth, and thought it was a good idea to dye my eyebrows black when I was fifteen (I am, naturally, a red-head), was telling me to keep going. And, shit, I was going to listen.

I slow down and press my back against the wall, my breathing coming harshly as I sneak a glance around the next corner. In the distance, at the end, I see a figure with loud footsteps dart across the hallway, and I shrink back. As I turn, the plate in my hand clashes against the wall, and a small _clang_ echoes through the sirens and the distant shouting.

It is then, as I dart across the open hallway and round another corner, than I hear the sudden closeness of slow footsteps coming at me from the end of the corridor. There, in the midst of the flashing red lights and whining sirens, I see three silhouettes in the darkness, moving slowly toward me. I freeze, a string of curses filtering through my suddenly terrified mind as I step back desperately, hoping to hell that they haven't seen me.

' _Stop_!'

Well, never mind.

I do the exact opposite, electing instead to hurl my metal plate as hard as I can to the quickly approaching figure of, what seems to be, a man with his hands clenched in front of him. Oh, shit - he's holding a _gun._ What the fuck is this place?! The plate misses him narrowly, but I'm already tripping back round the corner where I came from, my white pants that the woman had given me catching underneath my toes.

I did _not_ want to die like this.

I run straight into something solid, though. My vision had apparently been impaired by the red lighting and blind fucking panic, because fuck knows how I hadn't seen the hulking figure of the man standing a foot round the corner. I catch only a glimpse of him before he grabs me. From his shiny bald head, his narrowed eyes, the hard plate he wears over his chest, and the sneer on his face. I scramble as his arms encircle my waist, my yell coming out far louder than I wanted it to, and my legs curling to kick him where I knew full well it would hurt.

There's a _zapping_ sound; almost like electricity, and a bright flash. The man freezes then, and lets out a loud grunt into my ears that I almost don't hear above the sudden shouting coming from behind him, and the sirens bellowing around us. I fall away from him as his whole body seizes and he stumbles back, as if he had been hit by something.

I fall back, only to have a different set of arms grab at my waist.

'Fucking - _no_!' I sputter, hurtling away from the new body as the man falls behind me. I whirl around, fists drawn high and embarrassingly close to tears at this point. I stare in bewilderment at the yellow shirt, the blue eyes, and the same curved gun that the woman had curled in the fist of the man standing before me. I step back, nearly stepping on the man behind me. The shouting in the distance behind me grows louder, and I all but shit myself as a man and a woman appear behind the yellow shirted man. 'Stay back-' I warn.

The man, with his blue eyes and bright shirt, takes a tentative step forward. 'No - it's okay. We're here to rescue you. We were sent at encrypted message that a girl was being kept here. One of the Doctors - she helped you. Look, we're with _Starfleet_ -'

I blink, hands still drawn uselessly in front of me. ' _What_?'

He steps forward, chest heaving as he peers at me. 'What's your name?'

Huh. I stare. They had never bothered to ask me that before. Maybe...maybe these people really were here to help me. Whatever the fuck Starfleet was, maybe some new part of government rescue, they might actually be here to save me. 'June,' I gasp, before even thinking about the implications of finally sharing my name. 'June Adams'.

'Jim!' a deep voice shouts as the shouting and footsteps behind us grow louder. The man with the blue shirt looks angrily behind us.

'Jim' jumps, nods, before reaching into his pocket and flipping open some kind of phone. What the fuck? I hadn't seen a flip phone in freaking years. 'Captain Kirk to Enterprise. We have her. Beam us up'.

Before I can so much as splutter, run, or even breathe, this Jim guy is latching onto my arm and tugging me closer to him. I don't have time to even shout at him for touching me before something like a cold tickle travels up by spine, like water had slipped down the back of my stiff white shirt. I gasp, quite sure that I am officially having the worst fucking day ever.

And then, I feel like I am melting.

It is not a good feeling.

I blink, and it takes only seconds for me to realise that I am in a completely different setting, where the white is so bright and so blinding that my eyes water. I stumble back, nearly tripping had it not been for the grip still on my forearm. Blearily, I look around, from the few people standing beside me, to the others standing feet away, on a lower platform. Reds, blues, yellows - they all wore such brightly coloured clothes.

And here I was, only in white.

When I faint, I am fucking relieved that I don't have to deal with whatever shitty situation I had found myself in now.

* * *

 **And that's chapter one! Lots of unanswered questions, but we shall see where this goes. Review!**


	2. Dreaming

_I sit by and watch the river flow_  
 _I sit by and watch the traffic go_  
 _Imagine something of your very own_  
 _Something you can have and hold_

Dreaming - Blondie

* * *

I haven't ever passed out before.

It's a bloody weird feeling, I'll tell you that much.

Do you want to know what makes it that much weirder? I'll tell you what. Fainting, after being kidnapped, held at gunpoint, manhandled, and then fucking _transported_ to some overly bright place, is made only weirder by then waking up in a clean, hospital like room filled with odd beeping sounds. Yeah, that - _that_ is an odd experience, I'll tell you that much.

The only time I have woken up in a place without knowing how I got there, is when I woke up after a particularly heavy night in my first year of my BA Degree. I had been in the courtyard of my University building, surrounded by unopened ready salted crisp packets, with a broken shopping trolley holding my passed out friend in it. To this day, no one is quite sure how we got there.

The bed I'm lying in is hard and white, and the covers around me are tucked so aggressively into the mattress that I'm half sure it's going to take me hours to slide out from beneath them. There are monitors either side of me; their screens odd and transparent, almost as if the screen isn't really there at all. I blink blearily up at them. I haven't been drugged, I know that much. Having woken up from a drug induced sleep more than once in that dingy, dark room, I knew full well what the feeling was like.

I _am_ thirsty as fuck, though.

There's a curtain drawn around me. Good. It helps a whole lot more than no one can see me as I clumsily rid myself of the covers, and clamber as quietly as I can onto the cold, white floor of wherever the hell I was. I rip the wires taped to my arms and neck away, and the beeping of my heart fades to a low hum. I pause, waiting to see if anyone comes to my little makeshift room. Maybe my family were on the other side of the curtain? Mum and dad would have come as soon as they heard I had been found...

I blink down at my feet for a moment.

Huh. They'd put socks on me. _Double_ huh. My clothes had been changed, too. I wore a papery feeling blue trousers and long sleeved shirt - _far_ more comfortable than the stiff clothes the Creepy woman had given me.

The woman...had she really let me go, or had I been caught by the same people...or worse ones? The blue eyed man _had_ said they were saving me. But from _what_?

After a few moments of arguing with myself, my red hair a mess around my face and my mouth tasting like stale spit, I finally pull back the white curtain and a take an uncertain peek into the environment beyond. It was a big - definitely a hospital like setting. There were beds like mine scattered about the large, open room, all of them unoccupied. There was something...off about the place. It was so clean; so _odd._ Diagrams and screens littered the high, white walls...all of them like no technology I had seen before. The _room_ was like nothing I had ever seen before. Maybe I had been taken to a posh hospital? A private one, maybe? Surely my face had been all over the news in the days I had been missing.

Shit, I hadn't even _thought_ of what picture they would have used. They better not have used any from the Age of the Terrible, Choppy Fringe. That had been four years ago, when I was naive and twenty and thought cutting my own hair was a delightful idea.

It is then that I see a shift at the furthest end of the long room, where a part of the wall sticks out, almost as if a room sits beyond. A woman's voice tinkers through the beeping of the machines, and I am about to call out to her...to step out from behind the curtain and ask where the hell I am, and what the hell had happened to me.

I see her, then.

And I all but wet myself.

She is tall, with skin the colour of moss and hair as red as mine. She's wearing one of those blue dresses I had seen others wearing earlier, in that odd room that I had appeared in with the yellow shirted man. I'm still half-sure that must have been some kind of hallucination, or maybe I had blacked out or something. Until now, that is. Until I had seen a woman with green skin.

Green. Fucking. Skin.

I close the curtain. I step back. I take a deep breath and nod to myself.

Yeah. I have _no clue_ what the fuck is happening.

So, rather than sitting back on the bed and waiting for someone to approach me, or even letting the green toned woman know that I am awake, I do the one thing that I probably should not do in a place of which I do not, in the slightest, know.

I yank back the curtain, slip due to the socks, and then break into a full sprint towards the door to the left of the room, ignoring the woman's sudden yell with a huff of surprise of my own. The door fucking _slides open_ as I run toward it, disappearing behind the shiny white walls with a quiet _swoosh._ I don't waste a moment gawking at the odd, futuristic and bizarre door, but instead lurch into an equally brightly lit hallway, with white walls, white floors, blazing lights-

Footsteps clap behind me, and I am apparently not nearly as fast as I once thought, because rough hands grab at my wrist and spin me round so quickly that I nearly lose my footing. 'Stop man- _handling me!'_ I yell, aware of a flash of blue; of broad shoulders and something metallic clutched in tanned hands. The hands encircle my shoulders, holding me steady as I punch the blue shirted dick with the palm of my hand as hard as I can.

Fuck my 5'5 stature.

'I'm a damn Doctor - _Christ!'_ Southern. Male. In the midst of my freaking out and total fucking outrage at being, once again, grabbed by a strange man, I look up to the tanned and frustrated face of the man holding me. Fucks sake, why were the dicks always attractive as hell? 'I'm tryin' to _help_ you-!'

There's a clicking sound and a beep, and something sharp like a pinch clenches against the curve where my shoulder meets my neck. A string of tired, blurry curses and insults fall from my mouth as one by one my limbs seem to loose anything of the adrenaline fuelled strength that they once had. With one final and weak thump to the man in the blue shirt, my eyes slip shut and my mind goes black.

The last thing I see is hazel eyes.

* * *

The next time I wake up, I know there is someone sitting beside me.

I blink into awareness, clocking on quickly that I am in the same bed as before, with the covers tightly locking me into place. The odd, floating monitor to my left bleeps along with my heartbeat, and the person next to me shifts in their seat as said heart monitor speeds up an obvious amount. Shit. No use trying to pretend to still be asleep, huh?

' _Try_ not to run off again, huh?' the voice says, and something registers in the back of my head as I squint against the light and turn toward the voice that I know that male tone. I glare, confused, to the blonde haired man sitting on the white chair to the left of my bed. The curtain is closed around us, but I hear voices and footsteps on the other side. No use running again. The man throws me a tired half smile, and I half register that he's on the brink of being one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen. Was I in some kind of fucking _lab_ for pretty people? 'You nearly gave my CMO a damn heart attack, Miss Adams'.

 _The blue-eyed guy from before. The one who took me from that place._ He was still wearing the same bright yellow shirt as before, with the metal insignia on the breast. 'Who the hell are you?' I croak, blinking over at me him. 'And who the hell was the guy who stabbed me in the neck and knocked me out?'

The man leans back in his chair, huffs out a sigh, and maintains eye contact with me. 'James T. Kirk,' he responds calmly. 'Captain of the U.S.S Enterprise. The ship you are, as of seven hours ago after we rescued you, aboard'. He shifts, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 'And the delightful man who _stabbed you in the neck_ was the ships Chief Medical Officers, Doctor Leonard McCoy. He _was_ trying to help you'.

I squint. ' _Ship?'_

Why the fuck was I on a damn _boat?_

He seems momentarily surprised, but covers it quickly. This _Captain,_ with his odd clothes and burning blue eyes, nods. 'A Federation Starship. We are currently at the beginning of our five year mission - we're still in Federation space. We received an encrypted message from an abandoned Science Station that a woman was being held captive. After you threw a plate at me, I gathered it was you'.

Oh, yeah. The plate. I squint again. '...It was the woman, I think. She helped me escape, I...The one who gave me food and took my...' I trail off, his words ringing in my ears. I shake my head, ridding any thoughts of the woman for now. 'A _Starship? Federation?_ Look, dude, I'm super grateful that you got me out of that hell-hole, but I have _no idea_ what you are talking about. I have _no idea_ why those people had me, or what they were doing to me. If you would just let me call my family, they're probably worried sick-'

The Captain James T. Kirk settles back into his chair, a look of surprise flipping across his features. 'The...The encrypted message that our Comms received highlighted that you were, as it were, precious cargo'. _What?_ 'And that rescuing you would result in only angering a fair few people. They were Starfleet, that much we know. Science Officers who went rogue. I...' The Captain squints. 'I find it hard to believe that after however long you were there, you don't know what they were doing with you, Miss Adams, nor why your were so _precious-'_

My jaw clenched. My fists curl. Apparently, the bizarre day had finally caught up with me. 'Look - _look,'_ I seethe, struggling rather ungracefully into a sitting position and yanking my hand from beneath the covers to point a finger at the blonde-haired stranger. 'I do not know what the _fuck is happening._ One second I was drinking with my friends, and the next I was waking up in a dark and cold room with no _clue_ as to where I was. For a _month_ the only contact I had was some creepy woman coming in to give me food, take my blood, and knock me out. _I do not know what they were doing to me._ Now, if you would just give me a fucking phone so I can call my damn parents and inform them that I am not _dead,_ that would be God damn _splendid,_ Captain _Kirk-'_

The curtain is torn open then, and my angry words die pathetically on my tongue as I yelp in fright at the sudden movement. There, with an annoyed expression on his face, is the same man who had grabbed me and knocked me out.

'God damn it, Jim!' the blue shirted man snaps roughly, stepping behind the curtain and glaring at this Captain Jim, or whatever. 'What did I tell you? _No damn questions._ And _you'._ He swerves on me, brows furrowed together. 'Keep your damn voice and heart rate down. This is a damn medical bay, not-'

I gape at him. 'You keep _your_ voice down-!'

'I am the damn CMO, I can do-'

'Bones,' the _Captain_ drawls, a pinched expression on his face. 'Please. Shut up. You,' he directs to me. There is something in his tone. Something that sounds like he's piecing things together. 'Where are you from?'

I snap back to looking at him. 'What do you...?' Did they...did they really not know who I was? I just assumed that missing posters would have been out for me, or that my face would have been all over the news... _Was no one looking for me after a fucking month?_ I settled back. My palms were starting to sweat. 'Oxford - at University. That's where they must have-' I blink, shut my mouth, and remember so suddenly that my stomach clenches and teeth clench. 'Why did that woman have green skin?'

'What?' the angry Southern man snaps.

'That woman. The one from before. Why did she have green skin?' Both men seem to stare at me, both at a total loss for words. Next to me, the heart rate monitor bleeps faster and faster, but the man who I assume is a Doctor entirely ignores it. For some odd reason, my question seems to baffle them. Had they not seen her? 'Where the _hell_ am I?'

'What year is it?' The Doctor says suddenly, after sharing an annoyingly long look with the Captain. I stare at him, and the heart rate monitor picks up all the more. 'Darlin' - what year is it?'

My breath seems to be coming in short spurts now. 'It's 2018'.

'Ah,' the blonde-haired Captain says. ' _Ah_ '.

'Well,' the Doctor drawls. ' _That_ answers a hell of a lot of questions'.

* * *

It is 2260.

It is 22 fucking 60.

I ask for proof. They show me. Their 'PADD's' as they call them, the odd 'Communicator' that looks like a flip phone, the technology splattered around, what the Captain calmly called, the Med-Bay. It explains, I guess, a lot. Everything has seemed a little tilted; little things here and there that I could not quite wrap my head around.

I feel little as if I am having both a rather splendid psychotic episode, and have actually died and gone to some fucked up form of hell.

The Doctor leaves after five minutes, electing to instead leave me with the Captain of whatever damn _ship_ I was on. The heart-rate monitor beeps quickly, but I don't even try to calm down my breathing. I had been in the future - the fucking _future!_ \- for nearly a month, and I hadn't even known it. Is that what the people, those horrible people, had been doing to me? Had they brought me here in some fucked up experiment.

The Captain said as much. 'Time travel isn't unheard of entirely,' he hums, apparently still a little jolted at how to deal with my wide-eyed, silent state. I almost felt bad for him. He looked awkward as hell. 'It's happened. But not...not under these circumstances. I'll have to contact the Federation and the Academy, but...Oh'. He stops, looks to me, and then pales somewhat.

'Oh my God,' I whine. 'What _else?'_

This Jim guy clears his throat, closes his eyes as if praying for patience, and then clasps his hands tightly in his lap. 'This _future_...the woman that you saw. Earth found life among the stars, Miss Adams. Planets, civilisations. That is, primarily, what this Starship does. It seeks new life in the galaxy. This...you're currently in space, Miss Adams'.

I stare at him. 'No, I'm not,' I croak out.

'Yes, you are'.

'No'.

'Yes'.

'...No?'

Captain James T. Kirk stares at me.

'Holy shit. Holy _shit'._ The hate rate monitor blares through the quiet. 'No. Okay. No. I need to-to know more. What does it do - this ship? What was that woman? You need-' I swallow and scramble, sitting in a more upright position. 'You need to tell me everything, dude'. I could feel the white hot panic curling inside of me, but I knew it would only be calmed by fully understanding where I was, both in time and in, apparently, _space_. Information of any kind was usually the only thing that could calm me, and for nearing a month I had been entirely without this.

'Maybe another time-'

'Now _. Please'._

We sit there for perhaps an hour. I ignore how uncomfortable he seems to be at the herd of questions I fire his way, and glare furiously at the Doctor when he once again slips behind the curtain and insists I try and get some rest. He has checked my blood, he says, and he cannot understand why the people at that hell-hole I was kept in insisting on taking it so often.

I inform him that I don't care about that. I care about the fact that I am on a fucking _spaceship_.

The United Federation of Planets, apparently, is an interstellar federal republic, composed of planetary governments that agreed to exist semi-autonomously under a single central government based on the principles of universal liberty, rights, and equality, and to share their knowledge and resources in peaceful cooperation, scientific development, space exploration and defensive purposes. There are some planets outside of the Federation, James T. Kirk tells me, that are not in the Federation. Be it that they are enemies, or that they do not know it exists.

I process this. It seems, I can only guess, fair.

Starfleet, on the other hand, is a deep space exploratory and defence service maintained by the United Federation of Planets. Its principal functions included the advancement of Federation knowledge about the galaxy and its inhabitants, the advancement of Federation science and technology, the defence of the Federation, and the facilitation of Federation diplomacy. There is an Academy, the Captain says, that trains people to work on Starships, Earth, or stations. Command, he says, Operations, and Sciences.

When he mentions Engineering, I nod numbly and say, 'I was training to be a Bio-Engineer'.

Uselessly, he replies, 'We have a lot of Engineers on this ship'.

I don't know what to say to that. 'Can I get back?' I ask, and it feels fucking stupid to be even asking such a thing. 'How did they even... _why?_ Why me?' My voice cracks, my eyes narrow. I sniff as I stare at the Captain of this fucking...this _spaceship._ He shakes his head, his shoulders tense and his back straight as he now stands at the end of my bed. 'What did they _do_ to me for a month?'

James T. Kirk struggles for words for a moment. 'I don't know,' he replies finally. 'But I'll help in any way I can, Miss-'

'June,' I mutter.

'...June'. A ghost of a smile flits across his features. 'The galaxy has offered far more puzzling situations than this. This is one of the most prestigious ships in the Fleet, and I _promise_ that we'll help you in any way that we can. I'll contact Starfleet, and we will get to the bottom of those. For now, rest. You're a guest aboard this vessel. I'll have quarters for you arranged'.

I stare at him, still trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. What else had they encountered, outside of a time travelling twenty-four year old woman? What else did this future hold that I did not know about? I nod. 'Thanks'.

I nods stiffly, pauses as if he wants to say something else, and then bows out from the curtain. I watch him leave, allowing only these few moments to rub my face and pinch my hands. So, I wasn't dreaming. This was real. I was in the future, in space, and I was some kind of freaking guinea pig for those weirdos back at the dingy, dark room. The future. Earth. What would it look like, what would-

It hits me then, for maybe the first time. The idea had flitted across my mind when I had first been told, but with the information that I was now slowly receiving, the idea of my family and friends being dead had not truly hit me until now.

Dead. They would have died decades and decades ago. Mum and dad. Dead.

I gasp in a breath.

And, somewhere beyond my white curtain, the sound of glass shattering echoes throughout the quiet of the med-bay. I jump violently, blinking when I hear the familiar Southern drawl of the man James Kirk had called Leonard McCoy. I wait a few moments, baffled and worried, until the curtain is pulled back and the man himself steps into view, one of those PADD things balanced over his forearm as he taps away at it.

He glances up at me briefly, face still drawn into that tense look. Was that just his _face?_ 'Sorry 'bout that. Window to my office shattered. Probably some damn screw comin' lose. Damn ship is a floating accident waiting to happen'. He clears his throat.

I blink. 'Well,' I hum, linking my trembling hands together across my drawn up knees. My voice sounds a tad hysterical. 'That's _exactly_ what I needed to hear right now. Thanks, Doc'.

Said Doctor gives me a stern look.

I cough. 'Sorry'.

He ignores me. 'I've got Jommin, the ships counsellor to come down and talk to you. I don't care how long you're here for, Red, I want you talkin' to the woman whenever you need to, y'hear? She's dealt with crew who've been in captive situations before, and-'

I squint. 'You have truly _terrible_ bed-side manner,' I inform him. He pauses, before drawing those hard hazel eyes to glare into my blue ones. I stare back, wondering why the hell my mouth ran itself whenever I was scared, nervous, worried - you know what? It ran itself no matter my emotion. Still, being in a total state of shock didn't exactly help me internal filter. I swallow. '...So, you were talking about a counsellor?' I supply nervously.

Doctor McCoy huffs. 'Jommin. She'll be down soon to talk to you, whilst the Captain sorts things on his head'. He peers at me. '2018, huh?'

I nod.

'Damn Dark Ages. Surprised I didn't find your blood laced with the damn plague'.

* * *

 **Thank you to those who have followed and reviewed! I can't wait to start shaping this story more, but of course we have to go over the initial shock etc. Also, I am aware time travel exists in TOS with things like the Slingshot Effect, but this is fanfiction so I'm going to play with things a little bit. Hope you're enjoying! Review, review, review!**


	3. Feeling Good

_Stars when you shine, you know how I feel_  
 _Scent of the pine, you know how I feel_  
 _Oh, freedom is mine, and I know how I feel_  
 _It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me_

Feeling Good - Nina Simone

* * *

'So,' Captain James T. Kirk says. 'Oxford, huh?'

I'm standing in the middle of the Med-Bay, decked out in black trousers and a black top, my red hair pulled into a ponytail and my head aching from so much thinking. It had been two hours since my revelation, and 30 minutes since the Spanish Counsellor Jommin of the U.S.S Enterprise had left my side after an hour of talking me through my many mini panic-attacks.

I tear my gaze away from where a Doctor, who had introduced himself as Doctor M'Benga, talks lowly with the Doctor McCoy. I can only assume that he was being filled in on my situation. The cranky Southern man was still yet to discharge me and, according to Captain James Kirk, he was having a hard time accepting the fact that I was ailment free. _You should see him when he's chasing me up for my medical reviews,_ the blonde haired man had told me.

I look to him now. I felt, in only one word, drained. Drained, shocked, annoyed, tired and freaked the fuck out. 'Yup,' I reply.

James crosses his arms over his chest and nods. 'Impressive. Bio-Engineering?'

I reply, once again, with a, 'Yup'. After a short pause in which James Kirk huffs out a laugh, I ask, 'So, Captain of a spaceship?'

He snorts then, his cerulean eyes darting to me. 'You know, if you keep calling the Enterprise a spaceship, my crew are going to start catching onto the fact that you might not be from around this, er, _time'._ I blink, to which he catches my gaze and looks at me seriously, apparently catching on to the fact that I genuinely assumed that was what I should call the Enterprise. 'Look, I can't even imagine how overwhelming all this information must be to you. I've been in contact with the Academy, and they've given me permission to hunt down the people who brought you here'.

I nod. 'Oh'.

He turns, so that he's facing me more fully. 'I've got the best crew in the Federation on board this ship, and we'll do everything we can to figure this out. The moment we got you off that ship, the thing vanished at warp speed - fast,' he corrects quickly, seeing my confused look. 'It's how we've explored so much of the galaxy. You'll see,' he waves a hand, and I slot away this new piece of information. 'The high-ups at the Academy...they've given me permission to keep you aboard this ship as long as we look. I don't think...I mean, no offence, but I don't think having you on Earth is the best idea at the moment. These were Starfleet Officers gone mad scientist...it's kind of bad publicity-'

I snort. 'Yeah, I fuckin' bet'.

He peers at me, this blue eyed Captain. 'You okay with that?'

I shrug. 'I'm still in the state of mind that this is all some very elaborate dream caused by too many tequila shots. I mean, where the hell else do I have to go, Captain James Kirk?'

His mouth tugs into a half-smile at that. 'You can call me Jim, June. You're not a part of my crew'. Thank fuck. The guy seemed to be either Jim, James, Kirk, Captain Kirk, or just Captain. I was starting to get a headache from wondering what the hell I was supposed to be calling him. 'We'll figure this out and...maybe find a way to get you home'. I nod. I don't miss the lack of promise in the sentence.

'Alright'. I whip my head around to look at where the Southern Doctor was making his way over to us, parting ways with M'Benga. The latter shoots me a curious look, and upon catching my eye, an awkward smile flashes across his features. _Subtle, dude._ 'Let's go, Jim'.

Jim or James nods, before starting for the sliding door. I breathe in deeply, suddenly nervous at the prospect of leaving the white lit medical room. What the hell would I see on the other side of these doors - more green skinned people from planets that had, apparently, existed even when I was living on Earth, 242 years ago?

Jesus. Physically, _that's_ how long it had been since I had touched the polluted, blue and green planet. I wonder what it looked like now? I wonder if my home still existed? I wonder if my name went down in history, as the twenty-four year old woman who disappeared without a trace? I wonder if my friends felt guilt? I wonder if the graves of my family were there for me visit, if it ever came to the point that I really wouldn't be able to return home-

Panic swells inside me.

The lights in the hallway flicker, and it is only then that I realise we have left the Med-Bay. Jim tuts and looks to the ceiling, muttering a, 'Gotta get Scotty to check the power...', just as a thin, silken cloth is shoved in front of my face. I yelp, nearly trip over my own feet, and throw the Doctor walking beside me, whose eyebrows and furrowed and mouth is pulled into a moody, straight line, a bewildered look.

'Your nose is bleeding,' he explains, still looking at me curiously.

I blink, before yanking the cloth from his hand and pressing it to my nose, too distracted to notice the people in brightly coloured, as I had found out, uniforms greeting their Captain and throwing me curious looks. When I pull the cloth away, I see a small speck of red marring the clean white. Huh. I had never had a nose bleed before. Maybe it was stress.

'Stress,' the Doctor grunts, voicing my thoughts. I look at him as he reaches his hand down into the pocket of his black trousers. 'Keep it,' he says shortly, as I hand the cloth over to him. I nearly blush. Jesus, June, why the hell would the guy want a cloth covered in your snot and blood? I am about to thank him as I slip the cloth into the pocket of the trousers that had been given to me, but instead grunt in surprise as a metal, beeping device is suddenly planted against my forehead.

' _What_ the-?'

Jim, the yellow shirted Captain, looks over his shoulder. 'Oh,' he hums, rolling his eyes. 'He does that. Bones is a paranoid wreck, just so you know-'

'I am not a paranoid wreck because I don't want ancient, disgusting diseases making their way onto _your_ ship, Jim'. Oh, so that's what it did - checked me for illnesses and diseases that, simply because I'm from the past, I _must_ have? You know, I was really starting to believe this McCoy or Bones or whatever was severely socially inept. 'Her nose was just bleeding - that's-'

'Probably a sign of stress,' I snap, flicking his tanned hand away from my face. 'Christ, I'm from the 21st Century, not the 14th Century, _Doc._ Shockingly, the Black Plague was long gone by the time I came about-'

The Doctor ignores his friends, who for some odd reason calls him _Bones,_ snort of laughter. Instead, he glares down at me. 'What about Ebola, Avian Influenza, Cholera-'

'I really feel like I might have noticed if I had bloody Ebola, Doctor McCoy,' I snap, as Jim leads us into what I assume is an elevator. As the doors swish shut behind us, I barely even notice as the thing starts moving, only paying attention to Jim Kirk, who throws the blue shirted Head Doctor an exasperated look.

'Bones, leave it. _Why_ are you following us, anyway?'

 _Following us to where,_ I want to ask. I suppose it's not an entirely bad thing. I was keeping busy, forgetting for just a brief moment the bizarre thing that had happened to me. In the time that I had spoken to Jommin, my heart rate monitor had been beeping so fast that the woman had seemed half sure I was having a heart attack. On top of that, I was finding out more and more information about where and when I was. Right now, that was the only thing keeping me calm.

'To keep an eye on her,' the Doctor snaps, as I am led out of the lift onto a floor, once again, scattered with various people. I catch sight of a woman with skin pink and wrinkled; the top of her head apparently made of a claw like thing...like _legs._ She passes us with a group of people also dressed in red and, apparently, my gaping has become a little too obvious, because a rough hands wraps around my bare arm and yanks me forward.

'C'mon,' the good Doctor says roughly, dropping his hand from my arm the moment I whirl to face him.

Aliens. Fucking _aliens._

'Are _you_ Human?' I ask him, jogging a little to keep up. The Captain nods to people in front of us, and I see different skin tones, heights, I _hear_ different accents...Something stirs within me, and I know it to be excitement. Was this an inappropriate time to be excited?

McCoy looks slowly down, a deadpan looks on his rugged face. 'No,' he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tone. 'Lots of damn aliens have Georgian accents'.

I stare at him, swallow a smile, and reply, '...Fair point'. _Rude American._

Jim stops in front of a door, one of the many that line the long corridor that has suddenly become very sparse the further down we walk, and presses his thumb against a black pad to the right of the door. I watch, intrigued, as a thumb print flashes in green across the screen, before the door swooshes open. Shit, Apple had nothing on _that._ McCoy nudges me forward and I stumble to follow the Captain, my eyes adjusting as he says,'

'Lights to 75%'.

I suppose I can add that to the lists of things the future let you do.

'Spock, status report,' Jim says, flipping open the thing that I now recognise to be a _Comm._ I look around the room that we're in as a steady voice replies, 'Nothing as of yet, Captain'. It was a living room and a kitchen combined, with dark walls, grey floors, and generic colouring throughout. There was nothing that particularly yelled personal about the room, but from the picture frames all featuring the blonde haired Jim Kirk with other people, I could assume this was his room.

'You alright with talking to an Admiral from Starfleet?' Jim asks me, and I tear my gaze away from a picture of a pretty blonde woman with a man who looked like Jim Kirk. He gazes at me levelly, as Doctor McCoy sighs and walks to the area that resembles a kitchen. There was the sound of running water. 'I've filed a full report, both on what you told us and what happened to initiate us rescuing you, but there's a few simple questions they want to ask, first'.

I am, once again, nervous. Rubbing a pale hand over what was sure to be a heavy bag under my green eyes, I nod. 'Sure'. It is then that a glass of clear water is shoved into my hands, and I blink at it, before looking up at the Doctor.

'You drink it,' he grumbles.

I pull a face. 'You're funny,' I reply, before downing half the glass in one. Huh. I hadn't even realised I was thirsty. 'Thank you-'

Suddenly, a voice crackles through the quiet, and I whirl around to look at a screen, placed on the wall above a wooden table, holding the face of an aged, dark skinned man with serious brown eyes and a tight jaw. He was sitting, from what I could see, with his hands clasped in front of him and wearing some kind of military uniform. 'Captain Kirk,' the voice greets, and the man nods.

Jesus. Here we were, in space, and they were getting a better signal that I would get in my own damn house.

'Admiral Akachi,' Kirk greets, walking to stand closer to the screen. He turns to me, blue eyes blinking, and nods for me to follow. _Fuck, he could have given me a little warning._ I swallow my water hastily and shove it into the hands of the Doctor, who grunts, affronted. 'This is June Adams'.

I stumble to stand beside Kirk, cheeks warm, and nod. 'Hi'.

 _...Hi? Jesus._

The man, Admiral Akachi, bows his head. Jesus, first a Captain, now an Admiral? I was in way over my head. 'Miss Adams, I wish to apologise on behalf of Starfleet for the hardship of which you have endured. We stand apart from those who brought you from your time, and we will do everything we can to figure out how they did so, and with what purpose. Punishing those responsible and returning you to your own timeline is our main concern'.

I nod, shoulders sagging. But how long would that take? How could I even go back, after such a short amount of time of being here? 'Thank you, Admiral. I know...I know it wasn't any of you. Jim, er, Captain Kirk has explained that much to me'.

Again, the Admiral nods, eyes flitting to where Jim stands beside me. 'It is for that reason that I ask you to tell only those that need to know, Miss Adams'. Next to me, Jim Kirk sighs. 'It would do no good for Starfleet to be associated with such actions, and we aim only to do good. Captain Kirk has informed me of those he has told, and that they are trusted Officers. I implore you to do the same'.

Gotcha. _This_ is why they wanted to talk to me. So I don't blab about being the time travelling twenty-four year old Bio-Engineer from 2018. Shit, that would make a good book title. I cock a brow and nod. 'I got that much, Admiral. Thing is, I think others will clock on pretty quickly that I'm not from around here once they see me trying and failing to turn a damn light on-'

A lie. It didn't really seem that hard to do, but they _must_ get where I was coming from. I was used to know things and here...I knew nothing.

Jim Kirk cuts across me. 'Admiral, a background story for Miss Adams is already underway, sir. I assure you, we will keep this under wraps. Only a select few of the Bridge crew know, as well as my CMO and Chief Engineer. I have informed the Enterprise crew that we are attempting to find the ship of rogue Science Officers after rescuing a woman of whom they were experimenting on, sir, for unknown means and reasons. Although I do not enjoy lying to my crew, they won't ask questions beyond that'.

'I'm glad to hear that, Kirk,' the man replies. 'Godspeed to you and your crew. I will inform Starfleet. Keep us updated'. With that, he nods, and the screen goes blank.

Kirk looks at me, a frown on his face. 'What?' I ask, crossing my arms. 'I was _joking'._

Doctor McCoy scoffs. 'Admiral's aren't exactly the jokiest of individuals, darlin' - trust me on that'. He places the glass of water on the counter to his left, and eyes the Captain. 'Can I finally request that my patient get her rest now, Captain?'

Captain James T. Kirk waves a hand. 'You discharged her, but yeah. I need to get back to the Bridge, anyway'. He looks to me, then, as I shift nervously. _Where to now?_ From what the Admiral had said, no one other than who the Captain had told could know about me. What did that leave me to do? What did they _want_ me to do? 'I've assigned you quarters on this floor. Unheard of, as this is the Officers floor, but I would rather have you closer than further away, given...' He waves a hand at me. 'Well, given the fact you're-'

I nod. I sigh. I shrug. 'Yeah. I get you'.

He nods. 'Good. Good'. I am, once again, led by the two men from yet another room and into the brightly lit hallway. I grimace, swallow voicing my dislike for how damn bright the ship was, and look from Captain to Doctor. 'Bones,' Jim Kirk says. 'I need you to take her to Quarters. Down the hall - _167._ Next to yours, you being CMO and paranoid as hell, and all. There's a PADD and Comm in there'. He turns to look at me. 'It's pretty self-explanatory, like a tablet. I want you to research anything you can that can jog your memory. I've given you full access to Starfleet's person files, to a certain extent. Look through the Science Officers and see if anything jogs your memory. We know who a few of them are, but not all'.

I blink at him, attempting to process this information. My mind, apparently on the brink of falling out the shock faze, was suddenly going a centimetre a minute. With that, he nods to the spluttering McCoy, and turns on his booted heel.

'Dammit, Jim!' yells the Doctor, making me jump. 'I'm a Doctor, not a babysitter!' He grumbles and turns to me, and I suddenly feel like telling him that I'm neither a baby nor a fucking invalid. 'C'mon,' he grunts. 'I'll take you to your quarters'.

Once we reach said Quarters, a two minute walk down the corridor, where we pass a few people dressed in yellow who slide uneasily passed the grumbling Doctor, McCoy points roughly to the black pad to the right of the door. 'Touch that,' he grunts. I throw him a look, to which he rolls his eyes dramatically. 'Thumb-print recognition. Only the Captain, First Officer and the CMO can override it. Now, press your damn thumb to the door so I can get back to my Med-Bay'.

Anger coils within me, and I want to shout at him that I don't need some grumpy man being damn rude to me right now. I was upset, tired and damn fucking homesick, and he was _not_ helping. Instead, I bite out a, 'Fine,' and press my shoddily painted thumb against the pad. It dings and, like with Jim Kirk, the door slides open.

I step in. The room, whilst smaller and without the two sofas the Captain had, is far bigger than the room in the house I had shared with my friends in Oxford. It's the same dark colour scheme, with the same screen, the same small kitchen (with smaller counters and, yet again, without a stove or oven - how did they cook?), a smaller table, and a door which must lead to the bedroom and bathroom.

I blink, my stomach clenching. It smelt unused.

'Bathroom,' McCoy points roughly toward the door on the far right. 'Bedroom. Kitchen, where you'll find your replicator to make your meals. Only Officers get those in their quarters, so be thankful for that one'. I blink from both him, to the square contraption he had pointed at, that sat on the kitchen counter. 'Tell it what you want, and it'll make it,' he explains with a short eye roll. 'But keep it basic. And this,' he marched forward. 'Is a PADD-'

I dart forward and yank the black, light tablet from his rough hands. 'Oh! Like an iPad or some shit. Swanky'. I study it, as he studies me. I look up at him. 'What? Is Apple not a thing anymore?' He furrows a brow, that moody look dawning his features once again. 'Y'know what - forget what Jim - Captain... _whatever_ said. I can figure out how to use this thing on my own-'

He grunts, uncrosses his arms, and cocks a brow. 'Gladly, darlin' - also, figure out how to use the Comm. Good luck with _that'._

'I will!' I snap. 'I wasn't some idiot, y'know. I was an Engineer - I still _am-'_

He clucks his tongue, rolls his eyes, and waves a hand at me as he stalks from the room, his boots slapping loudly against the floor. I hear him, as he leaves, muttering about time-travelling infants and damn stupid Captains.

The door swishes shut, and then he is gone.

And I am all on my own.

* * *

 **We're finally getting somewhere! I love moody Bones. Please, review! I have a busy life, so reviews make me update faster! Thank you to those who already have.**


	4. Cruel Summer

_The city is crowded_  
 _My friends are away_  
 _And I'm on my own_  
 _It's too hot to handle_  
 _So I got to get up and go_

 _It's a cruel, (cruel), cruel summer_  
 _Leaving me here on my own_  
 _It's a cruel, (it's a cruel), cruel summer_  
 _Now you're gone_

Cruel Summer - Bananarama

* * *

I have been reading through articles, blogs, historical texts, social media pages for so long my eyes are beginning to ache. Without my reading glasses, I'm probably going cross eyed by this point. But I just...I can't care. There's _so much_ to learn. The PADD took only minutes for me to figure out how to work, but with a few easy finger flicks and taps to the light, somehow-solid-but-somehow-not screen, I was able to unlock it and search whatever I wanted.

It was like the internet but so... _so_ much wider.

The Federation of Planets was founded in 2161, in San Francisco. It grew and grew as more planets and civilisations wanted admission into this massive government, as a way to find peace. It was...fucking _amazing._ I flip through the names of the planets and of the people...Vulcan, Romulan, Talarian...there seemed to be so much more than just _Human._ There was so many languages now; so many more cultures to learn.

According to a ridiculously wordy and lengthy page on Starfleet, the PADD told me that Starfleet is some kind of exploratory and defence service maintained by the United Federation of Planets. Its aim was to gain as much knowledge about the galaxy and its inhabitants as it could, as well as the advancement of Federation science and technology, the defence of the Federation, and the facilitation of Federation diplomacy.

And then Starfleet itself...there was an Academy. Majors. Tracks. It wasn't just spaceships and shit; it was like a futuristic, wacky military for the best of the best. Geniuses. There was Engineers, Linguists, Security, Captains, Navigators, people who freaking _flew_ the ships. And, much like my cheery friend Doctor McCoy, Doctors and Nurses.

For a moment, my fingers linger over the letters flashing up at me. I could, I suppose, find out the lives my family and friends had lived. Had my sister, Emily, had children? When had my parents died? Did they continue to live their lives in the East of England after my disappearance? Or, perhaps, was there a disappearance at all, if somehow I were to go back? That wasn't something that I would know, though, until I actually _went back._

 _If._ If I went back.

I shake my head, squeeze my eyes shut, and decide I am not quite ready to do that.

Instead, I look at Earth. I flit through pages on the history of Earth, of the leaders of the worlds and how they had changed and become obsolete. Gay marriage, now legal across all countries and planets. How Earth had, in the time between 2060 and 2065, made massive efforts to save the world via recycling, ensuring global warming did not kill the planet, and protecting the lives of so many animals.

Fucking figures that I would have been at the end of my life when Earth decided to yank its head out of its arse.

I know full well that the Captain of the starship I was on (in space...I was in space) had said to look over any Science Officers, but after a few minutes of attempting to figure out how to weave my way into the actual Starfleet database...I gave up. Damn that grumpy Doctor for being _right_ about me not knowing how to work the damn thing. Besides, it was no use looking for the faces I had never seen. There was only the woman with the blue eyes who I saw daily. The one who, according to Jim Kirk, had sent out some kind of encrypted message to ensure _someone_ would come and save me.

Jesus. Had I been on _another_ floating ship in the middle of space that whole time, and not even known it?

For some reason, she had wanted me out of there. Still, she didn't let out _what_ they were doing to me, or why they yanked me from my time at all. Maybe they just wanted to find out how the body of a 21st Century woman worked, compared to now? Maybe...

It is then that my eyes catch something among the bundle of words splayed across the PADD in front of me in small, black and white lettering. _The Eugenics Wars._ I frown, mutter a curse and a question, and flick my bitten nails over the glowing, transparent screen. I tap away at the link, blinking in surprise at the strong words blaring in front of me, and then that bewildered stare turns into one of utter confusion, with a light mix of terror.

 _The Eugenics Wars (or the Great Wars) were a series of conflicts fought on Earth between 1992 and 1996. The result of a scientific attempt to improve the Human race through selective breeding and genetic engineering, the wars devastated parts of Earth, by some estimates officially causing some thirty million deaths, and nearly plunging the planet into a new Dark Age._

True, I had been born in 1994, but I feel like this is something I _would_ have remembered from my Secondary School History lessons.

That...that was impossible. This was the past I had lived in, no matter how young, but this War had _never happened._ There had never been bloody _super-human psychos_ running around Earth, trying to overthrow it and killing millions in the process.

I mean... _had_ there?

No. No, of course there bloody hadn't.

This was...this seemed like something they needed to know, right? The Captain, the one who was trying so hard to figure out my situation. Because, if this had never happened in my past...was it _my_ past at all? Apparently, the question was answered pretty fast, because I am hurtling through the doorway with the PADD in my hand and my brain a frazzled mess of tiredness and an overload of new information.

According to the time splayed across a small, digital clock in what I had found to my bedroom, it was 3:45 in the afternoon when Captain Jim Kirk and Doctor Douche McCoy had taken me to my room. I couldn't sleep yet.

Once the surprise fades, I realise very quickly that I have no clue where I am going.

I find the elevator easily, and spend a good few seconds figuring out how to make the damn thing open. Once I find the white button (stupid, against a damn white wall), I slide behind the doors and wait for them to close.

And then I stare at the various glowing, light blue numbers in front of me. _It was that one. I swear we came from that floor._ With a shrug, I flick my thumb against the holographic number and jump when the doors slide shut and a slight whoosh beneath my feet tells me that I am moving. My heart, which apparently has not stopped beating a billion miles a minute for the last however many hours, stutters in my chest.

When the doors open, I come face to face with a man in a red shirt and with dirty blonde hair, accompanied by two green skinned females with flaming red hair. I swallow tightly and apparently lose the ability to speak as a squeeze past them, because the only sound that falls out of my mouth is a funny little croak, accompanied by a spasm of a smile.

Green skin. How cool.

I beam when I realise that I have, in fact, made it to the right floor. _Well, let's fucking hope so. All these corridors look the damn same._ I squash my smile once I realise I am getting odd looks from those roaming the hallways, their own PADD's in their hands. Right, I stuck out like a sore thumb, with my papery clothes and lack of uniform.

Cheeks burning, I duck right and hurry down the hallway I had been led down just a few hours ago.

The sickbay, or whatever it is called, looks the same as it had when I left it. The same machinery hums about the white washed room, with mechanics and medical equipment that any of my Professors would have died to get their hands on and tear apart. The woman with the green skin is gone ( _Orion - that's what the PADD said! She was an Orion!),_ and has instead been replaced with a woman wearing the same uniform, but with bright blonde hair and pale skin.

Human...I think?

I step into the hospital-like room, my PADD held tightly between my hands. For fucks sake, I _really_ did not want to see this grumpy asshole again, but the sickbay was the only place I knew the way to, and I needed to tell someone what I had found. Mainly, the Captain, the guy who was helping me, and the guy who _really_ needed to know that maybe travelling through freaking time wasn't the only worrying thing about me.

The blonde haired woman looks up when I enter, her blue eyes catching onto me. With a quizzical look and a polite smile, she makes her way over to me and I to her. _Oh, God. Does she know about me? What if she doesn't?_ With a PADD held in her hands, she says, 'Can I help you?' American. Human, then. God, who knew anymore.

'Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. I'm looking for Doctor McCoy-'

She tilts her head, the quizzical look deepening. I notice, despite her subtle attempt, that her eyes dart down to what I am wearing. Oh _God._ With a quick wiggle of my toes, I realise that I hadn't slipped on the soft, fabric shoes that McCoy had given me earlier. I was wearing bloody _socks._ I cough, smile, and continue to meet her gaze. 'I'm sorry,' she says, her smile still kind. 'Are you a crew member-'

'It's alright, Nurse Chapel,' a rough voice that I unfortunately recognise cuts across her. I look up, noting that the small room at the far end of the Med-Day had a door, and in that doorway now stood the blue shirted Southern Doctor, complete with a frown, crossed arms, and a quirked brow. 'I've got this. Would you mind running more tests on that strain of Arethian Flu we found on that damn disease ridden planet-'

'Lokir, Doctor?' The woman replies easily, still eyeing me. I grimace and smile at her.

'Yeah. That,' grunts McCoy. This Nurse Chapel gives an easy nod, before ducking away from me and starting for the exit to the sickbay. Once I look back to the good Doctor, I wilt slightly under his hard stare. After a few moment of me staring right back at him, he sighs and steps back into his room, nodding toward the room with a, 'In here'.

I find out pretty quickly that the room is obviously his Office. There's a desk, two chairs, a bookcase filled to the brim with books both thick and thin, and various trinkets and what looks like damn _holograms_ littering the desk. The Doctor sits quickly on his side of the desk with a loud sigh, before throwing me a _look_ when I just stand there.

'Jesus. Sit, will ya?' I huff at him, before doing just that. I sit easily on the chair, my back straight and the PADD balanced between my cold fingers. The papery clothes, however comfortable, were really not very good insulators. Not to mention the fact that I wasn't wearing any bloody _shoes_. 'What brings you back here, Adams-'

'It's June,' I cut across him, much to his annoyance if his jaw snapping shut and his hazel eyes narrowing are anything to go by. 'And _this_ is why I'm here. I need to talk to Captain...Jim'. I thrust the PADD across the busy desk. After a pause, he takes it off of me with an eye roll. I wait a few seconds, watching his sharp eyes dart across the article, my fingers fiddling with one another nervously.

McCoy stalls, flicks his eyes up to me, and shrugs. 'Whilst the Eugenics Wars do cause for fascinating reading, _June,_ I don't exactly have time to discuss-'

'God, you're a sarcastic dick,' I snap. His nostrils flare. 'I don't want to bloody _talk about them._ Well, actually, I do. But more the fact that _they never happened._ There were not _superhuman's_ running around, nor massive war that killed millions, nor any _experiments._ That _never_ happened in my past, Doc'. He looks genuinely stumped for a moment, and I applaud myself for getting the upper-hand, if even for just a second. I lean back in my seat, cocking a brow at him.

I would feel a whole lot more cocky if I had remembered to wear some damn shoes.

'Sure you're not just _forgetting_ -'

I glower at him. 'I may have been two when the damn wars ended, Doc, but I _really_ feel like this is something I would remember-'

'Dammit, alright!' McCoy snaps. 'Christ...' He breathes, reaching onto his desk and grabbing for his own Communicator. Flipping it open, he barks, 'Doctor McCoy to the Bridge. Jim, you better get to my Office. Miss Adams had thrown yet another wrench in-'

'I haven't done anything!' I yelp, to which the Doctors eyes practically roll to the back of his head. _Oh, this guy is a class A dick_. 'It's not _my_ bloody fault-!'

 _'Be there now, Bones,_ ' the voice I recognise to belong to Jim Kirk replies briskly.

At that, McCoy snaps the Comm shut and leans back in his chair, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he meets my gaze with a quirked brow and a mouth pressed into a tight line. I swallow every angry word I want to send his way, but instead merely sniff and press myself back into my own chair, my feet hooking around the legs of said chair. My gaze snaps up when the Doctor says, 'You need to sleep'.

I frown at him. 'I've been a little busy,' I reply sarcastically. 'Plus, it's not even the evening yet. Despite all the shit they may or may not have done to be in that place, they allowed me to keep a proper sleeping pattern'.

His face, his annoyingly fucking handsome face, tightens some more. 'How damn good of them,' he drawls. 'I'm gonna prescribe you an oil that will help you sleep. I don't give a damn what you're saying now, but your levels of stress earlier were off the chart. Come night, I don't doubt that you'll be finding it damn hard to fall asleep. Especially with these damn walls pressing in on you at all sides'. At that, he looks disdainfully at said walls.

'Can you really blame me?' I grumble, in reference to his talk about my stress, not really expecting him to reply.

'No,' he says, eyeing me. 'No, darlin', I don't'.

Jim Kirk arrives then, stepping quickly into the room and allowing the door to slide shut behind him. It takes only seconds for McCoy to hand him the PADD as he stands from the desk, and with both him and I informing the Captain of the _Enterprise,_ he catches on quickly. He shares a look with McCoy, a look that is both dark and worried, and I swallow tightly.

'Were they really that bad?' I ask. 'These wars?'

McCoy snorts, whilst Jim Kirk replies. 'Yeah- pretty damn bad,' his blue eyes still downcast to the PADD, he sighs. 'A few of them escaped Earth and put themselves aboard an early sleeper ship, the _SS Botany Bay._ They slept for years, woke up, and the leader, Khan, released hell on Starfleet. He was...Think...think _Terminator_ ,' he says, and I blink in surprise. I also wholly aware that he was referring to something my dumb, time-travelling ass would be able to understand.

Except I wasn't dumb. I was used to be smart as hell, actually. Here, though, I felt...useless.

'Jesus'.

'Yeah'.

'What in the damn hell are the both of you talking about?'

I shake my head, still seated as I gaze up at the two men. 'So... _this_ wasn't _my_ past. I can clarify that with a massive amount of certainty. But what does that mean? Like...' I trail off, half-afraid that the words about to come out of mouth would sound as stupid as they did sitting in my head. 'Are we talking fucking...alternative universes, or some shit?'

Once again, the men share a look. 'Wouldn't be surprised,' Captain Kirk sighs.

I blink, eyes widening an almost comical amount. 'Holy shit. I was...I wasn't being _serious_ -'

 _You're not even in the future of your home. You're somewhere else entirely._

'It ain't exactly unheard of, sweetheart,' grumbles McCoy, hand coming up to rub at his crinkled forehead. 'This changes a hell of a lot. Have you spoken to Spock about this, maybe he could get into contact with-'

Jim nods. I stare, clueless. Spock? 'I will. Our friend will know something about this kind of thing-'

'Hell yeah, he will-'

I don't really realise I'm standing until I'm halfway across the sickbay floor, Doctor McCoy's Office behind me. My heart hammers in my chest, and my brain feels like it's swelling inside my head. _Alternative universe?_ That changed...that changed _so much_. It changed _everything_. I wasn't from _this past._ I might not have even existed here - not with a fucking massive war having broke out in the years of my birth. My family...did they even live through it? Did it change Earth that much?

My breath comes in short bursts, and I realise for the first time in my life I'm having a damn panic attack.

And when I hear the footsteps of Doctor McCoy and Jim Kirk behind me, I feel really damn stupid for freaking out, however little.

'June - dammit it, slow down, will ya?'

I wave a hand over my shoulder, my eyes watering and my chest feeling like a billion strings were tied tight around my lungs. 'I'm fine!' I call, as truthfully as I can. Damn shame my voice comes out all high pitched and weird. 'I'm just going to go back to my, er, _quarters'._

'Sorry to say, June, but you're going the wrong way-'

'Jim, God dammit-'

I clench my fists, willing to hell and back that they were just _bugger off_ and _stop following me_ -

'Ow - Bones, watch where the hell you're walking-!'

There is a grunt, and a, 'I didn't damn trip - I was _pushed-'_

It seems like, so suddenly, that every bit of panic washes out of me. I stumble to a stop, my eyes widening and my stomach dropping and a feeling of utter wonder striking up every nerve in my being. I choke on my breath, but not because of panic. Because of fucking _astonishment._ The men fall into a halt behind me, and I swear to shit I hear one of them chuckle.

Because there, splayed beyond a window that took up a majority of the corridor where I stood, were millions of stars.

I hadn't even thought to seek proof for what I had been told. I was in space - really, truly in _space._ There, dotted into blackness like a needle struck through black silk, was the proof. It wasn't anything like movies had shown it - nothing could quite show what stars and blackness really looked like. Nothing. This...this was art in itself.

'Bloody hell,' I mutter. I turn toward the two men. The Doctor looks out at the stars, a displeased look on his face, whereas the Captain smiles at me with something akin to understanding. 'Sorry,' I say, feeling both stupid and wired. 'Freaked out a bit'.

Jim Kirk shakes his head. 'How about you get back to your quarts, huh? We can carry this on tomorrow morning, 0700 hours. Bones? You got anything to help her sleep?'

The Doctor waves a hand. 'Yeah, yeah. Follow me, kid'. A pause. 'Also, your damn nose is bleeding again. And where in the _heck_ are your shoes?'

* * *

 **yooooo. here's the next chapter! i hope you guys are enjoying! i'm really liking where this is going so far. please, please, please review! we'll get more of the characters next chapter!**


	5. Twist Of Fate

_Don't understand what's going on_  
 _Woke up this morning all the hurt was gone_  
 _This is a new beginning_  
 _I'm back in the land of the living_

Twist Of Fate - Olivia Newton-John

* * *

I suppose it's not entirely shocking that, within a few minutes of me being in the sickbay, Counsellor Jommin walks through the sliding doors. The Captain had parted ways with the Doctor McCoy and I, presumably going back to whatever _Bridge_ McCoy had mentioned before. If we were talking in terms of actual _ships,_ it was probably the head of the starship, or whatever.

The idea of floating in space seemed so much more real, now, having seen the stars so close.

McCoy, who stands at the bed beside me after showing me a small vial filled to the brim with a blueish liquid ('Some Vulcan calming oil,' he had told me, plopping the oil onto my lap as I sat on a _biobed._ 'Unscented. Throw this onto your pillow and you'll be out like a light'), throws me a sideways glance when Jommin walks in. I sniff and glance up at him.

'You had a panic attack,' he points out, completely unapologetic as he quirks a brow at me.

'And the last thing I need is to bloody talk about it,' I grumble, plastering a polite smile on my face, much to McCoy's amusement, as Jommin approaches the bed. The woman, who was decked out in a blue dress that I had quickly linked with those who worked in Science and Medical, all but shoos McCoy away from me. The Doctor seems more than happy to oblige.

'I think June is more than ready to leave your sickbay, Doctor McCoy,' she says, in that lilting Spanish accent. Said Doctor throws me a narrow-eyed look, before nodding and grunting something about his shift almost being 'damn' over, anyway. I watch him go, more than a little annoyed to be handed over to yet another person. I was _fine._ I had a negative reaction to being told that not only had I travelled back in time, but perhaps to another universe. Was that _so_ bad? 'How about we walk back to your quarters and talk a little, June? I can only imagine how tired you are feeling'.

I try my best to not show how bloody fantastic this idea sounds. I scramble to get off of the biobed, the oil that Doctor McCoy had given grasped in one hand. 'That sounds swell, Jommin,' I breathe, landing on my socked feet. We leave quickly, leaving behind the beeping and light whirring of machines, and we're not even halfway out of the whooshing doors before Jommin is asking,

'Doctor McCoy informed me of the change in your circumstances'. I throw the olive skinned, dark haired woman a sideways glance, to which she cocks a dark brow. 'I can only imagine how much that must have upset you, June'. Don't get me wrong, I liked this Jommin woman. She was straight-forward, kind, and never once called me Miss Adams. But there was nothing that I liked less, as a British woman, than talking about my damn feelings. 'You are, I am sure you have realized, just that little bit further away from your home'.

Shockingly, I was aware of this fact.

I sniff, shrug, and try to ignore the odd looks people throw my bare feet. 'I feel...I feel a little like shit, yeah,' I agree. 'I panicked - I'm sorry the Doc called for you, there really isn't-' I cut myself off, tucking a strand of red hair behind my ear and catching her pointed look. 'Right. Sorry. Yeah - it makes me sad. Panicky. I feel massively out of depth, and I don't know what the hell is happening half the time. Honestly, I just want to shower, get changed, and _try_ to sleep despite knowing that I'm currently on a floating spaceship that could explode, or something-'

'Good _God_ ,' she says, only a small trace of amusement in her voice. 'You sound like Doctor McCoy. I can assure you, the Enterprise is _quite_ safe, June'. I hum, not all that convinced. Let me look at blueprints and see the Engineering department, and then I could vouch for that. We step into the lift, and Jommin presses the white button easily. Turning to me, she beseeches my shifty gaze. 'I need you to promise that you will contact me on your Comm if ever you feel that same panic, June. It is what I am here for. There is only telling how long you will be aboard the Enterprise-'

Jesus. She was right. I nod. 'Yeah. I will'. _No, I won't._

She stares at me for a moment, before sighing. 'You English,' she sighs, before stepping out of the lift as the doors swish open. 'Come - you look ready to drop'. We walk quickly to my quarters, and I think only of the hot shower I was about to have, and the bed I was about to fall into. I grasp the oil in my hands all the tighter. McCoy had said it was Vulcan. _I am about to use something that is literally from another planet._

Jommin leaves me at my door, with a soft squeeze to my shoulder and a kind smile thrown my way. I attempt, and fail, to return the favour, thanking her wholeheartedly and quietly for talking to me, before slipping into my dark and quiet room with a small sigh. It is only then that it truly hits me that this was _my room._ This bare, dark place with no character and no noise was the place I would call my little room of solace, suspended in the middle of space. My room, my real room, maybe not have even existed in the past of where I was.

I think for a moment about looking...about finding out whether my family lived through the wars here.

I both decide that this is a terrible idea and realise that I have left my PADD in McCoy's Office at the same time. Probably for the better, anyway.

Instead, I pad towards the washroom. It takes me seconds to strip out of the black shirt, trousers, bra and underwear that had been given to me, and blink at my body in the mirror of the dark walled room. My body, pale, freckled and overly curvaceous at my hips and bust, seemed different - as if I hadn't eaten properly in a long time. My little pouch of pudge was just that little bit less pudgy. Considering the sparse meals the woman at the mysterious, horrible prison I had been at had been giving me, I suppose I hadn't. I grimace at my pale face and the large bags under my eyes, as well as the tangle of red curls about my face.

I mean, I had looked _better,_ that was for sure.

I stand in the middle of the odd, open shower atop the step for a good ten minutes, feeling the walls for any kind of button. In the end a, 'Bloody hell - turn on!' has something warm and steamy falling off of my body as the walls of the shower glow slightly. I yelp and freeze, very much aware that condensation seemed to be both gathering on my skin, and evaporating all at once.

Suddenly it is done, and I scramble away feeling rather violated. Now I couldn't even look forward to a hot shower? The future sucked.

I crawl into bed naked, shivering beneath the cold sheets and spattering my pillow with the scentless blue oil. My mind hums with thoughts of my family and friends, and those I had left behind. My heart aches, my stomach clenches, and I feel, for the first time since waking up in the Med-Bay, suddenly so very alone. More alone, I think, than I had even felt in that dark and dank room where only the woman visited me.

With these thoughts in my mind, I finally fall asleep.

* * *

 _There is something pressed against my mouth, filling my lungs with something that makes me want to fall into the darkness of sleep once again. The beeping around me, the sound that had drawn me from the hazy darkness, seems slow and lazy as I blink awake. I feel numb and wired at the same time, like I could both sleep and run a marathon._

 _'Two is awake'._

 _The voice is bored. The voice is male. Male. There aren't any males in this place, are there? Only the woman...the Creepy Woman. No...when they bring me here... **then** there are males. But only here, in this room. Why can I never remember them when I'm back in the dark and dank room where only she visits?_

 _I blink up at the ceiling as the plastic mask is removed from my face. It is white and bright, and a light is blaring above me, burning into my retinas. Could they please turn the damn light off? I blink and breathe in._

 _I've wondered that before._

 _I've been here before._

 _I turn my head, and realise I am lying down. I am lying on something hard and metal, and it jangles as I shift. Footsteps are slow around me, and with squinted eyes I see them. The Doctors. They wear white and wander around me, heads buried in things I now recognise to be PADD's as they murmur to one another. My voice catches in my throat as I try to speak._

 _One of then, a man with grey hair and eyes so light they seem almost a white blue, looks at me with a calm smile. I struggle to sit up, my head whooshing as I do so. He hurries to me, shoes squeaking against the floor. The four other people in the room pay him no mind, and I am too weak to push him away. I recognise him. They've done this to me before. 'Now, now,' the man says, and he is English, like me. He settles on the edge of the rattling, metal bed I lie on, and helps me sit up. 'Be careful. You are always so clumsy when you first wake up, aren't you?'_

 _I blink, swallowing drily as I stare at him in confusion. After a moments thought, I nod. I am. He's right. Whatever they gave me to make me fall asleep always made me feeling like I had smoked an ounce._

 _'We are going to do the same as yesterday, Two. Is that okay with you?' He peers at me, and his eyes make me cold. He's always kind to me, but I know he's keeping me here. The memories come back slowly, the more I wake up. I learnt after the fourth time in this room that they were not going to let me leave, and that I should play along with their experiments...but what were those?_

 _What were they doing to me? Why can't I remember?_

 _Two...why does he call me Two? The back of my neck tingles, and I reach to rub at it. He catches me hand, arm still wrapped around my waist as he supports me. I glower, but he merely smiles. 'Now, none of that. It will still be sore. I want you to start what you did yesterday, before we had to make you sleep. Can you do that, Two?'_

 _Yesterday...what had I done yesterday? They had been happy, I remember that much. Then, suddenly, they had been shouting, syringes flying my way as they panicked and send me right back to sleep. Damn it, why could I never remember these things once I woke up in the dark and dank room? What the hell were they doing to my brain in here?_

 _I frown. 'Do you not remember?' He hums. 'That's quite alright, dear. Your memories will be quite muddled. Now, let us think. Emotions trigger your speciality, does it not? Let us carry on talking about your mother, shall we? Do you miss her?' He shoots a look back to the other men and women who are watching us, and I flinch under their gazes. My mum. I glare at him when he mentions her._

 _He was keeping me from her. They all were._

 _'Just let me go,' I breathe, wriggling away from him. 'Just let me **go'.**_

 _He shakes his head. 'You are too special, my dear. You know what we went through to bring you here, do you not? I have given you such a comparison. Pulling you from where you lived with such strength that little, shall we say, **gems** latched onto your being. One was an accident, and he failed us, but it made us realise what we could bring to this world. You, Two, you **survived**. Now, show is what you can do, my dear-'_

 _A tray, balanced on a counter to the left of the room, whizzes through the air. I flinch, wondering what on Earth they were doing to me in this place. Were their magnets? Were they all fucking mad. 'Let me GO!'_

 _The man sighs, drawing his arm away from me. The other Doctors in the room flutter about, voices low as they talk amongst themselves and press their fingers against the tablets in their hands. They watch me with wide-eyed interest, and I fall back without the support of the grey-haired man. My cheeks suddenly feel wet, and I dry sob as I stare up at the burning light._

 _Though, the last thing I had seen before falling back against the metal top had been eyes staring at me from beyond a window looking into the room. It had been her, I knew. The Creepy Woman. She always watched when they took me._

 _And she always looked so damn sad._

* * *

'Jesus Christ, woman, wake up!'

I jolt into wakefulness with a yelp and a forehead smashing hard against mine. There is a loud groan and a curse as I fall back onto my soft pillow, my head throbbing and my eyes squeezed shut. 'What the _fuck,_ McCoy?' I grumbled, rubbing at my rapidly swelling forehead with a groan. I blink open my eyes and glare up to where the Doctor is glaring down at me, his hand pressed against his own forehead. 'Can I _help_ you, dude? What bloody time is it?'

It is then that I remember falling into bed naked, and yank the quilt around me higher up my body.

McCoy drops his hand from his head, glare still in place, and narrows his hazel eyes at me. 'It's 0500. I was returning the damn PADD that you left in my Office yesterday when I heard you yellin' your damn head off. Figured I'd be a gentleman and save a damsel-'

My eyes tighten. Men. 'Oh, do not _even-'_

'You remembering something?' He asks, plopping the PADD down onto my bedside table. He sniffs and crosses his arms over his chest. 'Normal for those suffering from PTSD to remember in dreams. If you are-'

I sit up some more and throw him a flabbergasted look. 'Are you _allowed_ to just _come into my room_ like this? I gotta say, I'm feeling a little bloody _violated here,_ Doctor Friendly-'

'I'm CMO. I can do whatever I damn well want if it's in your best health'.

I nod, my smile tight. 'Right. Brilliant. _Fantastic_. Now, would you mind stepping out of my room so I can get changed because, Mister CMO, I am naked and I don't think we are _quite_ at a place in our relationship where I can wander around starkers in front of you. _Then_ I will tell you about my God damn dream, you creeper-'

I swear to God, he fucking _blushes._ With an even harder glare, he turns on his heel and stalks out of my room, and the door slides shut behind him. Snorting, I scramble out of the bed and into the cold, ordering the lights with as much authority as I can to turn on brighter. After changing into similar dark clothes as the day before and slipping on some black shoes (ha, I remembered), I slip into the bathroom, brush my teeth and splash some water on my fave. I then slip into the living area where Doctor McCoy stands, back straight and arms crossed across his chest.

I squint at him. 'I cannot believe you woke me up at 5 in the morning'.

He grunts. 'Federation ship hours, darlin'. Care to report your damn dream?'

I shrug. 'Shouldn't this be the kind of shit I tell Jim, or whatever?'

McCoy sighs. 'Captain is busy with whatever the hell Jim does to keep this plastic heap running. He said somethin' about letting Scotty show you around Engineering, though, so the sooner you type this report up and send it over to him, the sooner you can do that-' He cuts himself off, a look of realisation dawning. _Engineering. Hell, yes_. 'And _I_ just realised that means I don't have to be here-'

I blink, starting when he turns on his heel. 'What? No, no, no. I don't know how to file a damn report on those things'. I wave my hand in the general direction of the bedroom, where my PADD sits. It is only then I really begin to consider the context of my dream, and I frown. 'I should report it, though. I...I think I remembered some creepy English guy, actually...' I say, thinking aloud. They _were_ running tests on me. What had he wanted me to do? 'Think he called me _Two-'_

McCoy turns around at that, his brow quirked in a way that I was starting to realise was signature. 'You actually remembered something - some _one_?'

I pull a face, annoyed at his surprise. 'Yes'.

He pauses, staring at me for so long that I begin to shift. 'Two?'

I nod. One and Two. Had there been someone before me? The thought makes me clench my teeth. 'Do you have any tattoos?' The Doctor asks, and I blink at him before shaking my head. Always wanted one, but never wanted to get one until I had landed that top paying Engineering job once I graduated... _If_ I graduated. The Doctor frowns, before starting for me so suddenly that I jump and lean away the closer his form gets.

'What the _hell_ are you doing-?'

He reaches for my hair and pulls it aside with a gentleness that I assume comes with being a Doctor. With a soft finger, he presses against the back of my neck. 'You have one. A tattoo,' he tells me, brow knitted as he gazes to where his finger touches my skin. I awkwardly turn to look at him as he holds me in place, a very intelligent _huh_ falling from my mouth as his gaze flashes to mine briefly. 'It says _02_ '.

' _What?'_ I slap his hand away and feel for it, yelling when I come into contact with slightly raised skin on the back of my neck. 'Those _arseholes_!' I yell, rubbing at the skin. I think of the door. 02. That's what they named me. 'They - they _marked me!_ Like a bloody _cow_ -' McCoy stares at me, and I seethe. 'When you lot find them, I'm gonna get a burning hot rod and shove it-'

'But they called you that? Two?' I huff and nod, to which he sighs and rubs his forehead. ' _Jesus_. C'mon. I better take you to the Bridge to see Jim. God _dammit_ '. I huff once again.

'Sorry for the bloody inconvenience. I can find it _myself'._

'And have you wandering to the Transporter room and beaming yourself into the middle of space? I don't think so'.

I stumble as I turn to stare at him as he hurry down the corridor. 'Holy shit - _transporting?'_

* * *

The Bridge is wonderful.

It's wide and open, with fewer people than the rest of the ship spread about the room, all of them in reds, yellow and blues. I entirely ignore Jim as he turns to McCoy and I as we wander into the room, my gaze instead flying to where stars litter the window beyond the head of said Bridge. Space lays splayed beyond where two men sit, their yellow shirted backs turned to us.

I gape a little. Once had not been enough to behold this damn sight.

McCoy nudges me, and I turn to glare at him with a hiss on my tongue and an elbow flying right back to hit him. He rolls his eyes, before nodding pointedly to where Jim sits in, what I assume, is the chair for the Captain. I blink, smile, and tilt my head.

'Sorry, _what_?'

Jim Kirk, who I am starting to realise is just insanely good looking, rises from the chair and approaches us, his amused gaze flicking to McCoy. I cast the Doctor a look, realising that my elbow in the side had made his mood all the more foul. _What is this guys damage?_ 'I said,' he repeats, and my eyes flick to the few people who tap at screens littered around the Bridge. A few cast curious gazes over to me, and I catch sight of a man with a terrible haircut and pointed ears standing in front of a large, translucent screen. _Vulcan._ 'Is there something I can help you with?'

McCoy sighs, crosses his arms, and acts all the more like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. 'She's remembered some stuff, Jim. _Big_ stuff'.

* * *

 **Hello! Review! I'm going on holiday for a week so I won't be able to update guys and gals.**


	6. The Times They Are A-Changin'

_The line it is drawn_  
 _The curse it is cast_  
 _The slow one now_  
 _Will later be fast_  
 _As the present now_  
 _Will later be past_  
 _The order is_  
 _Rapidly fadin'._  
 _And the first one now_  
 _Will later be last_  
 _For the times they are a-changin'._

The Times They Are A-Changin' - Bob Dylan

* * *

'And how does that make you feel?'

I throw Jommin a sideways look as I fiddle with my PADD, my fingers tapping away at the various names that litter the screen. 'Really?' I ask her, legs crossed as I perch on the edge of the bed. She sits at the other end, legs crossed and fingers tapping away at her own PADD. Probably taking notes on me. She throws me a look as I sigh. 'How does it make me feel that I remembered the weird shit that they were doing to me, or how do I feel that I'm not the only person that may or may not have been yanked from another universe?'

Jommin looks up from her PADD, cocks a brow, and waits.

Once again, I sigh, and place the PADD on my lap. I had been scouring through the names and faces of the seemingly hundreds of thousands of Starfleet Officers to find the face of the mystery woman. According to the Jim, after I had spoken to him, Starfleet Headquarters had been in contact and they had in fact named many of the Doctors where I had been.

Seven of them. There had been seven of whom had gone rogue just two months before. Science Officers, working on Earth and most specialising in Advanced Theoretical Physics, five of whom had been men. I had been shown their faces, as Doctor McCoy stood silently behind me in what Jim Kirk had called his Ready Room. Immediately, I had recognised with a sinking feeling the face of the grey haired, blue eyed man, with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

'Lieutenant Commander Edgar Bates,' Jim Kirk had hummed, taking the PADD from me and peering at the 3D depiction of the stoic looking man. I had swallowed and blinked, putting a name to one of the men who had taken me. In my memory...he had seemed so familiar to me. Like I must have seen him all the other times the Creepy Woman had put me to sleep.

'I suppose it makes me feel slightly better that Starfleet is looking for these people,' I hum out to Jommin. I shrug. 'Still doesn't really excuse the fact that they let seven damn people run rampant and grab a couple of people from other dimension but, y'know, can't hold grudges, right?' I flick the PADD screen, introducing a whole new series of names and faces. 'What I _am_ wondering is why Jim is treating me like a damn child who needs distracting. I mean, making me look for this woman? I'm guessing with the technology you guys have here, you would have figured out by now that she _obviously_ was not Starfleet-'

Jommin actually laughs a little at that, her brown eyes crinkling. In an accent that I was starting to familiarise with her lilting voice, she says, 'Captain Kirk merely wants you to feel as if you are helping, June. You obviously have a mind that needs constant amusement, and with how helpless you feel-'

'I am not _helpless_ ,' I scoff.

Jommin shoots me a look. I shut up. 'I want to know about the marking on your neck, also,' she nods, pushing her long hair over her shoulders. I had clocked a wedding ring on her finger earlier, and this movement once again throws it into the dim lighting of my quarters. I almost want to ask her about it, whether her partner was still on Earth or on the Enterprise, but decide not to. Apparently, I was the only one on this ship who was forced to share intimate details about themselves.

Absentmindedly, I go to feel the slight bump on the back of my neck. I had lay there for hours last night, pressing my fingers over it and going to the bathroom to gaze at the dark _2_ etched onto my skin. I shrug. 'What's there to say? Doctor McCoy inspected it last night and wrote a fuck load of notes in my medical file. I'm sure you know, you will have read them - Jesus, alright, don't look at me like that. I mean, it's not really ideal, is it? Makes me feel a little like they _really_ only saw me as some...experiment, or whatever the hell they were doing with me'. I rub my cheek, the thought going about my head. That's really what it felt like, wasn't it? Like they were marking me. Making me _theirs._ 'But then...Two. Who was One? I mean...I remember them saying...I think they died'.

Jommin looks at me, fingers tapping against the PADD, and offers me a sad smile. 'You are strong, June. You survived because you are a _survivor._ You are helping Starfleet in correcting this wrong, and finding out what happened to you in those days, and stopping them from doing it to anyone else'.

I smile, trying desperately to look thankful and not as if the praise had made me blush to my damn roots. 'Thanks'.

She leaves me with a kind smile and an assurance that she will see me the same time tomorrow. I nod, attempt to look like that fact does not make me whither, and allow the door to slide shut behind her. Turning on my heel, I march over to the replicator (something of which I had learnt to use in the last three days, and was completely in love with) and replicate myself a steaming cup of strong coffee. It was one in the afternoon, and after a morning of having Jim Kirk knock on my door and offer me advice on scouring Starfleet for the Creepy Woman and talking to Jommin, I was about ready to fling myself into space.

I park myself on the stiff sofa, sip my coffee, and tap into the PADD yet again. Any free moment that I had was being taken up with researching the past of this, as Jim Kirk had called it, timeline. The Wars had apparently changed everything, from pop-culture to World Leaders, most for the better. Music varied with certain periods, my love of the 80's and 70's (a fact I was ridiculed for and called any synonym of the word pretentious - pretty fair) I fair share of music I liked stayed intact.

That is until I realised with a utter horror that Nicki Minaj, apparently, did not exist in this timeline.

I mourned for a good half an hour the night before.

Halfway through scrolling through an article about Transwarp Theory (something of which had me gaping and practically crying with excitement), I clock a name that jumps out to me. _Montgomery Scott._ The man was, according to the text, the inventor of Transwarp Beaming, a way in which to beam an object or person from one star system to another, or even to a starship travelling at high warp.

I click on his name, blink, and see that he currently worked as the Chief Engineer aboard the U.S.S Enterprise. I blink, think, and then realise. _Scotty. Jim had called him Scotty._

With that in mind I smile, slip my PADD into my pocket, and throw my hair into a messy ponytail before leaving my rooms.

* * *

Turns out that on a ship just a few weeks into what Jim Kirk had called its 'five year mission', everyone knew each other pretty well. Meaning, when some stranger in black clothes and a baffled expression comes bumbling up to you and asks how to get to the Engineering Department, people get pretty curious.

That, and I might have accidentally walked into a wall that I thought was a door. It was _not_ my fault, the doors were too damn misleading on this...spaceship.

About five people all in all (one blue skinned man who I identified, wide-eyed, as an Andorian) helped me enough that I managed to find a elevator that would take me down to Engineering. I stayed _far_ away from anyone in a red shirt or dress, knowing from my research that they could either be Operations, Engineering or Security, and I did _not_ want any freaking starship police to catch me.

Except...was I doing anything wrong? It _had_ been mentioned to me that the Captain wanted me to have a look around the department, considering my field of study. That, and the fact that I could not _wait_ to get my hands on these 'warp cores'. Not to mention the fact that I'd had _God_ knows how many conversations with the surly Doctor McCoy, and I hadn't _once_ asked him about the progress in Bio-Medical Engineering.

So, in a way that would always annoy my lecturers and parents, I go on my own way to find out what I want to know, regardless of the rules in place.

And, automatically, I am in love.

I have always been better with the more intricate parts of Engineering. Fiddling with synthesising in the laboratory of my Masters Degree and using a variety of chemical approaches utilising metallic components, polymers, ceramics or composite materials. That was what the latter part of my degree focused on, but that didn't mean I had never appreciated the truly beautiful art that came with Mechanical Engineering. There had been many times, growing up, that my Grandma would allow me to help fix up the various cars that came through her and my Grandpa's house. It was only a local thing, that people knew my Grandma had a talent with cars, and it was something she passed on to me.

With the sight before me, I almost feel guilty that I am lucky enough to see it.

People of different races and skin colours filter around the colossal room - of you can even call it that. Water turbines, pipes, catwalks - these all took up the brightly lit Engine room splayed before me. The hum and buzz of the place surrounds me as I wander in, completely enamoured with the sight of so many people tapping at PADD's, crouching in front of what little of the mystery objects in the room are, and talking animatedly with each other.

This...this I knew.

Well. Kind of.

I take another step forward, only to be nearly mowed down by a stressed young man with hair the colour of the sky on summer. He shoots a glance to me, apologises in a thick accent, and continues on his speedy way. Frazzled, tired, wired and caffeine fuelled? Yeah. This was Engineering.

'Red hair, non-regulation Starfleet clothes and 'n expression like ya've gone an' seen a goose lay a golden egg,' I look sharply to my right where, amid a blow out of steam from a water pipe, there is a red haired man wearing an equally bright red, long sleeved shirt sipping away at what appears to be a very dainty cup of tea. He cocks a brow at me, tilts his head, and says, in a rough Scottish accent, 'An' I'm guessin' you're June Adams, am I righ', lassie?'

I blink, glance down at my black shirt and trousers, and and back up to the man I assume is Montgomery Scott. 'Would you believe me if I said no?'

He snorts and places his tea cup onto his plate and starts for me. 'Probably not, lassie. Now, I'm guessin' Captain Kirk doesn't know that you made your way down here?' Before I can even answer, the man waves a hand in my direction. 'Bah. He'll be glad to see you've gone out of you way to appreciate this beautiful lady!' With that, he hits the wall beside is with a pleased smile, making the small girl fiddling with some wires in said wall to the left jump. 'The Captain told me you were an Engineer and seemed pretty keen on lookin' about at the Enterprise?'

I blink, a little baffled out how many words this strange, Scottish man was throwing my way. 'Uh-'

'Ah - no bother,' he sips his tea once again, before shoving it into the hands of a passing man. Said man seemed nonplussed by the action, so I could only assume it wasn't a rare occurrence. 'Take it ya snuck out of ya room to get here?'

I think for a moment, before replying, 'Would you believe me if I said no?'

He laughs at that, and I nearly sag in relief. 'Ballsy - like a true Engineer! Ah, I'm sure the Captain won' mind ya having a wee snoop about this beautiful lady'. He gives me a look, almost as if he catches himself. 'Now, any questions you have, you fire away, lassie. You're lucky you came down today. We're havin' a quiet one, but this time yesterday one of the water turbines burst and almost drowned poor Keenser-'

'Can you tell me about Transwarp...well, _anything_ \- and maybe the warp engine room? I also read about the modern impulse drives and their use aboard Federation starships from some article that I read-'

'Lass,' he says, holding up a hand. 'I'm Scotty, alrigh'? Now, what's your name?'

I frown, knowing fully well that he knows my name, before replying, 'I'm June...Scotty. Jesus, Scotty and you're Scottish?'

He snorts, slaps me on the back (making me choke), and replies, 'Now, about the Transwarp theory-'

And he tells me, and damn it if I don't listen harder than I have ever done in my life. I hardly know this man, this odd, red haired man with an accent that is the closest I have heard to home in the last three days, but he seems to take great pleasure in talking my ear off about the Enterprise. I see the pride in his eyes, and know that he works his bloody arse off to keep this starship (a word that I was still getting used to) running. I follow him, ignoring the looks and the overwhelming nervousness coursing through me, and instead focus on the things that I _know._ For the first time in days, the unknown that I had been thrust into seemed just that little bit less scary, because this was stuff that I _knew._ And even the shit that I didn't know...I caught on quick.

It was a pretty good feeling, to not feel like an utter fucking idiot.

'Ah mean, there's other ways to do it, lassie,' Scotty the Scotsman says. We're standing amidst a long corridor littered with red lights and screens, all of them jumping information that I do not yet know. Scotty had informed me that this was the corridor that bypassed the computer bay. 'A look at alternative methods of achievin' interstellar travel, such as th' soliton wave, the graviton catapult, and the quantum slipstream drive...ah mean, a few of these are only theoretical, o' course-'

I snap my mouth shut, realising once again that I had been gaping up at the man. Rolling my sleeves up my arms, I puff against the warmth of the Engineering Deck. 'It's all so different,' I mutter. 'But still just fundamentally the same. Half the words you just said mean nearly nothing to me, but I kind of get where you're coming from. Does that make sense?'

Scotty snorts, shrugs, and replies. 'I feel tha' way when I get into a conversation with Mister Spock, lass'. Spock. The Vulcan. Huh, I _was_ catching on quick. 'Now, lookie over here. We've had some trouble with this wall here the last few days. Heatin' up somethin' fierce. Easy job, so we left it 'till late considerin' the trouble with the turbines. Wanna have a look, lass?'

I do, and with a quick smile and an eager nod, Mister Scott is nudging me toward with the wall, where he pops open the latch and, shit, there are wires. Red, green, white, black - I had thought, perhaps, something about the appearance of the wires would be even more different than everything else in this future. 'It's sparking slightly,' I say, glancing back to see Scotty standing behind me with his arms crossed. 'The red and the green are overlapping where they shouldn't be - I-' I cut myself off and grab at the gloves sticking out of Scotty's black pants pocket, entirely focused on the job at hand.

I knew he knew where I was from and what had happened to me, and whilst I hated it when people like Jim Kirk tried to distract me with meaningless jobs, this I could get on board with. The likeliness that Mister Scott had bent some rules to allow me to walk around the Engineering Deck was pretty likely, and I couldn't help but me so selfishly thankful to this stranger for the fact that they had reunited me with the one thing that could distract me from the sadness of my life.

Problem solving. Tinkering. Doing.

The gloves are thick enough that I can touch the circuit wires safely, but thin enough that I don't nudge any of the others. I see the problem - crossed wires and a loose end where the red wire has come loose from the wall. I nod to myself, biting the inside of my cheek as uncross the wires and slide the loose wire into its slot. Quickly, it's obvious that this had been the problem, and I tell Scotty this. He neither looks impressed not unimpressed. We both know that when it comes to Engineering, this was a simple job.

He nods, waves over a red shirted woman, and tells her to solder the wire in.

'Lots we can teach each other, lassie,' Scotty says, as I step back from the slot in the wall. I turn to him. 'I've read a billion texts on the shift in Engineerin', but from wha' I hear...' He peers at me, unsureness flitting across his face. 'Well, somethin' tells me things may have gone down quite different where you're from'.

I blink, before remembering that I am, in fact, from another universe. I snort. 'Probably, yeah. Hey, thank you for-' A loud spark echoes through the buzz of the Engineering then, and I see Scotty's eyes widen a fraction before he yelps, high pitched, and a sudden sharp feeling stings across the side of my neck. I yell, wince, and flail like a mad man, jumping far too close to the Scotsman considering I just met him.

I hear a voice yell from above, 'Oh, _God_! Sorry, Commander-'

'Bloody 'eck, Mathews! Was tha' a damn coil spanner? Ya damn-' The angry Scottish yell is cut off, and I feel a tap on the back of my head. I turn, hand pressed to where the freaking coil spanner, whatever that was, must have hit me. Scotty squints at me, and I squint right back. 'Ah, hell. Gonna have to take you to Medical, lassie. You're bleedin' all over yaself-'

I pull my hand away to find that, yes, I was indeed bleeding. Bloody Mathews. 'No. No. No, no,' I shake my head. 'I'm sure it'll be fine, I-' I glance at my fingers once again, stuttering at the sight of a fair amount of blood coating my fingers. 'Jesus fucking Christ, did he drop a damn _duelling sword_ on me?'

Scotty looks very much like he wants to laugh, but swallow said laugh and says, 'C'mon. Looks like I'm gonna have a bollocking from the delightful Doctor McCoy'.

* * *

'I was bored,' I defend myself, sitting on the edge of a bed, my feet hanging above the squeaky clean flooring. 'Jim had me rifling uselessly through Starfleet Officers to find that damn woman. Plus, he said I was _allowed_ in Engineering-'

Doctor McCoy, who stands in front of me with some beeping device held against the side of my head, glares at me. Damn, he smelt good. What the hell was that? 'Jim said he would _arrange_ it, ya damn liar. Now, quit your squirmin' and let me see if you've sustained any God damn brain damage-'

I roll my eyes and yank away from the man. 'Jesus, is that what you're doing? It hit my _neck -_ where the blood is, Einstein. _Slight_ clue-'

'She is righ', Doctor-'

McCoy whirls to glare at the red-haired man who stands to the left, his red shirted arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He jumps at the Doctor's harsh glare, and something about his expression tells me that he was quite used to it. 'Don't _you_ start, Mister Scott. I've had enough of your damn Engineers coming up to my sickbay, without you sending damn guests of this ship up here. She's already enough trouble as it-'

'My name,' I snap. 'Is _June'._

Hazel eyes land on mine, and I swallow my smile. He narrows his gaze, and I tilt my head. 'You're a damn nuisance, is what you are,' McCoy mutters, dropping the device into his pocket. 'Your neck is fixed up - just needed to meld the skin back together. Thank your lucky scars that damn spanner didn't fall an inch to the right, or we'd be dealing with a cracked skull. Scotty, if your Engineers don't-!'

'Now, Doctor McCoy, my Engineers are the finest in the 'Fleet-' He is cut off, apparently, by the solid glare that Doctor McCoy sends his way. With a bumbling stutter and hands clasped behind his back, Montgomery Scott sends me a half amused/half mock frightened look and bows his head. 'I'll leave you in the care of the fine Doctor, lassie. Oh - and I'll send over those texts I was telling you about, aye?'

I nod, dodging McCoy's fingers as they go to grapple the tender flesh of my now suddenly healed neck. Another part of the future that I couldn't complain about. 'Aye!' I grin, nodding and waving him goodbye, as he scuttles clear of the Doctor's dark look.

'Am I healed, oh good Doctor?' I ask dramatically, swinging my legs lightly as I perch on the edge of the bed. For for the first time in what seemed like forever (after being stuck in that cold, dark room with no one to talk to) I felt a little more like myself. At his sharp look, I grin.

Doctor McCoy peers at me for a moment, before slipping his PADD out of his pocket and tapping at it. 'Y'know, you should smile like that more often, darlin'. Makes you look a little less like you're completely baffled by everything goin' on around you-'

Ignoring the fact that is comment makes me want to blush to my fucking toes, I snort. 'I _am_ baffled by everything going on around me,' I point out lightly. At that, McCoy dips his head in agreement. 'You're not gonna...' I lick my lips, my mouth drying at the idea of having to _beg_ to the grumpy and rude man. 'I'm gonna ask you really politely if you would not make this into thing - as in...don't _ban_ me from ever going to Engineering again. Jim mentioned me going there before, to learn...but if you say I shouldn't, seems like he'll probably listen to you, and I'm already going mad with boredom after just a few _days_ -'

'Go on then'.

I snap my mouth shut and blink. 'What?' I blurt out, blinking at the man. He cocks a brow, crosses his arms over his broad chest, and stares at me. If I'm not mistaken, I swear to fucking God I see the hint of a smirk tug at his lips.

'Ask me politely,' he drawls, in that damn Southern accent.

'I just _did'._

'No. You said you were _goin_ ' to ask me politely'.

 _What. A. Dick._ I gape at him, half surprised that someone with such terrible social skills could ever become a bloody Doctor. With a sniff, a glare, and eyes cast to the right of the room, I say, 'Doctor McCoy, I would _really_ appreciate you not writing on my records, or whatever, that I cannot go down to Engineering in however long my stay aboard the Enterprise will be. I would really, _really_ appreciate it'.

He stares at me, before shrugging lightly and sighing. 'I'll think about it'.

'...What?'

He doesn't reply, instead drawing the curtain back fully and nodding for me to get off of the bed. 'Now, get out of my sickbay before I change my mind'. I sigh and shake my head, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I slide form the pristine made sheets. With a peer up to the Doctor, I see that he is looking right back at me. 'And _don't_ go wandering off to dangerous parts of the ship. Can you manage that?'

As I back away from him, toward the exit, I tilt my hand back and forth and pull a face. ' _Aaaah_...maybe'.

This time, I am _sure_ I see a smile.

* * *

 **I have returned! My holiday was hot and lovely and I swam a lot, but now I am back in the cold and wet England (soon to be Wales for Easter break). Thank you so, so much for the reviews! I wanted a more character focused chapter, but we will be getting back to the main story-line soon. Review, review, review!**


	7. Thriller

_And no one's gonna save you_  
 _From the beast about to strike_

Thriller - Michael Jackson

* * *

 _I don't know how the fuck to date this. Jommin tried to explain it to me, but even my Advanced Maths and Physics brain doesn't get it. So, it's January 16th, 2260. Aaaaaand it's 12:01 PM. Or 1201 hundred hours._

 _Whatever._

 _Oh. And June Adams signing on, or something._

 _It's Day Six aboard the Enterprise, and Jommin has ordered me to start writing a Log. She says it's something that many people in Starfleet do when aboard starships, especially the Officers. It's a way to remember things, to log in missions, and to keep tabs on all of the crew. The only people, apparently, who will have access to my log are Captain Kirk, Jommin, Doctor McCoy and Doctor M'Benga._

 _I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to be writing._

 _Something to keep me sane? That's about what Jommin said. Anything I don't want to say to her, I can splurge onto my PADD. She's smart, that Jommin. Very aware of the fact that I'm not one for emotional conversations. Thing is, they seem to be never-ending. Since Day One on the Enterprise, I've had people asking me things that even my family never bothered to ask me. Not that my family didn't care. They did. We just never asked each other how we were every second of every bloody day._

 _Jommin has that problem._

 _Ever since that incident in Engineering with the Scottish Scotty, everything has seemed a little more...real. The more I see of people and races and whatever on this ship, the more I begin to piece together what this future is...what Earth must be like now. I've studied pictures (I would say I had 'Googled' pictures, but sadly Google is obsolete now), and it seems clean. Peaceful. There's sustainable energy, clean air, no melting icecaps..._

 _It's annoyingly perfect._

 _Maybe World War III is what the world needed for it to pull its head out of its arse. My world, anyway. I k_ _eep thinking about mum and dad. My friends. I haven't had the guts to try and find evidence that they even existed in this timeline. How fucking weird is it to say that? Not only am I in the future, I'm in another damn timeline. I'm the furthest away from home that I have ever been. I feel selfish...being so excited to see places like the Engineering Department, and the stars splayed beyond the many windows on the starship. I feel stupid and selfish because I'm missing, aren't I? I must be...and if I'm missing, then there are people that I love missing me._

 _Jommin says that it's fair that I am feeling that way, when I finally told her. But she also said in a way that was half saying it and not saying it at all, that if it ever came to me not going home, then I would have to make a life here._

 _The thought terrifies me so much that I do the oh-so healthy thing and completely ignore it._

 _I feel like a bother, sometimes. This ship was meant for exploring, right? But it seems almost stagnant, as they look for whoever took me. Jim, the Captain, visited me this morning again, and told me that another Federation ship (I can't remember the name) found what must be the small ship I was being held captive on. It had escaped after we beamed off of it. It's just sitting there. Empty. The escape pods (I'm guessing like lifeboats?) are all gone. Those people could be anywhere. He could be anywhere. Edgar Bates._

 _I sometimes thinks they were doing something insane to me. Sometimes, I feel like there's something swelling inside of me, like anger and agitation or some shit. Not to mention this damn nose bleeds. McCoy send me a message yesterday and asked if I'd had anymore. He's a moody git, but at least he does give a shit about his patients. An annoying amount of shit, actually_

* * *

The Communicator next to be hums lowly, and I jolt away from my methodical tapping against the PADD. I reach next to me, where I had placed the Comm on the couch which I was curled up on, and blink at the thing for a moment. I hadn't, in the days I had been aboard this ship, ever gotten a call on the damn thing. People seemed perfectly fine with barging into my quarters or, if you were Jommin, _knocking_ before barging in.

So, with a quizzical expression, I flip the thing open.

'...Hello?'

There's a low laugh, of which I recognise quickly. 'So, you figured out how to use it, huh? Well done, June. Now, get your ass over to the Bridge. Remember the way?' Jim Kirk asks, his tone that of both Captain-y orders and friendly banter.

I frown down at the Comm. Perhaps it was because I was in a small space with a bunch of geniuses (and I don't want to sound like a brat, but _I_ was used to being one of the super smart ones, but my bloody _origin story_ seemed to knock me down a few pegs on the intelligence scale here), but the comment has me bristling. 'Bugger off, Captain,' I reply snappily, before snapping the Comm shut and sliding off of the couch.

I slide my Comm into my pocket, slip through the door and start on my way. It doesn't exactly help, of course, that I do not remember the way to the Bridge, and am forced to ask various members of the crew as I pass through the ship. I don't miss the way recognition lights up in there eyes when they see me. I can't really blame them. From what Jim had told me, only a select few knew why they had rescued me from that ship and who I really was. They must be baffled as to why I was being kept here.

Because Starfleet didn't want some media scandal, apparently. The more the shock of where I was faded, the more that fact pissed me off. Starfleet was the ones who had let some Officers run rogue and yank me from the past. Why _shouldn't_ there be repercussions? But then. Starfleet was Jim, too. And Jommin. And Scottish Scotty. And the moody and somehow oddly caring Leonard McCoy who Jim sometimes called Bones.

If my research on my PADD had been correct, it wasn't the first time Starfleet had done something pretty fucked up. Something about a group of Eugenics who escaped the War, a terrorist, and a bat-shit Admiral. I also knew that the Enterprise had something to do with it, but even with Jim allowing my access to a load of stuff on my PADD, I wasn't allowed to view it. Whatever had happened, it had happened the year before.

I sidle onto the Bridge uneasily, taking note quickly that Jim's Captain chair was flanked by the dark haired Vulcan and Doctor McCoy. The three of them murmured lowly to each other as I wandered through the sliding doors, blinking around at the array of people. At the front, as usual, sat the two men on what I had read to be the Navigation consoles and the Helm. To my right, I catch sight of a dark skinned, pretty woman in a red dress cast a side-eye over to me. Red dress and sitting at the Communications Station. That must be the Communications Officer.

'June'.

Jim is standing, his yellow shirt seemingly blinding in the ridiculously over-lit Bridge lighting. The others around us continue to work, tapping away at their stations and minding their own business. I look, for just a moment, over Kirk's shoulder to the vastness of space that lay beyond the window. It was a sight I was sure I would never get tired of. 'Jim,' I reply, meeting his gaze with an equally morose tone. 'I was _summoned_?'

The Doctor's lip twitches, but the stern looking Vulcan remained ever stoic. If I knew anything about Vulcan's from my research, it was that they couldn't lie, they were vegetarians, and they hated showing emotion. Or just chose not to. Jim shakes his head at me, Adams Apple jumping, as I finally stop before them. 'Don't say it like _that_ -'

It is only then that I notice the tenseness between the three men. With a quick flick of my gaze, I see the furrowed brow (more so than usual) from McCoy, as he stares hard at the side of my face, to the tenseness in the Vulcan's jaw that may indicate annoyance. Jim, on the other hand, seemed to be uncharacteristically awkward. 'You're being weird,' I accuse, suspicious and worried. 'Oh, _God_. Why are you being weird? Has something happened?'

McCoy merely turns pointedly to look at Jim.

'The Captain,' the Vulcan, Spock, says, in a voice that is both breezy and commanding at the same time. 'Believes that it may be beneficial that you venture onto the _Chronos_ with those already beaming aboard the Class 4 Stardrive Vessel. I-'

My attentions piques. I could get off the Enterprise. I could see something other than these white walls and ridiculously harsh lights. Like, did people in the future just have singed retinas?

'Hold your damn horses, Spock,' McCoy practically _growls_ as I blink, utterly clueless, at the babbling Vulcan. 'There's a _way_ to explain things to people without jumping into it-'

'Will _you two_ -' Jim begins to snap, with an eye roll and an annoyed look.

I wait a few seconds, before cutting across. 'I'm guessing the _Chronos_ is the...the _vessel_ that they kept me on, huh?' Three pairs of eyes land back on me, before Jim nods. I hardly pause before nodding. Why would I not want to go back? I might remember more, beyond what I had remembered in that odd, hazy dream. The thing had probably been inspected by the ship that had first found it, but anything counted, right? 'Makes sense,' I shrug.

' _See,_ Bones'. At that, blue eyes narrow at the suddenly bitter looking Doctor, who glares down at me. I raise my brow at him pointedly.

'Then I'm damn coming too then, _aren't_ I?' he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Doctor,' Spock begins. 'I see no reason why-'

He throws his arm my way, leaning over Jim to snap at the Vulcan. 'Because this is my patient, Spock. Because we still don't know half of what they were doin' to her over there - she could drop dead at any moment! Because this darn girl could compete with _this one_ with getting into trouble-!'

My mouth snaps open. 'Um, I could drop _dead_?'

'Well, let's go then!' Jim announces, entirely ignoring the exchange. Something told me that it wasn't exactly a rarity between the two. McCoy's brow twitches in annoyance as he snaps his gaze away from the Vulcan man. 'Spock, you have the Bridge. Lieutenant Uhura,' the dark skinned woman I had clocked earlier turns in her seat, her long hair swinging over her shoulders. 'Keep the Comms open. Contact the _Trident,_ and tell them I'm taking a team on board the _Chronos,_ and that we want the ship clear of their Security crew'. At that, I see his light gaze dart back to me, and with a swift look to this Uhura, I see her nodding and spinning in her chair.

'Yes, Captain'.

'Captain, if I may?'

Jim looks to Spock, whilst McCoy sighs loudly, steps forward, and grabs me lightly by the elbow. 'We'll meet you at the Beaming Deck, Jim. I need to check this one over one more time before beaming down'. I blink, clueless, at the exchange and wriggle my arm out of McCoy's grip as we leave the Bridge. With a confused glance from me, McCoy looks down with a slight eye-roll. 'He's gonna to ask to join the mission. Damn Goblin sticks his nose everywhere it isn't wanted concerning Jim after-' He cuts himself off, sighs, and nudges me down a well lit corridor to the left. I almost want to ask _after what_ , but decide not to. Not my business.

'...Okay,' I reply with a shrug, still utterly clueless. 'Did you call Mister Spock a _Goblin_?' I snort - loudly, before cutting myself short. McCoy looks down at me as we walk, his back straight and his hazel eyes cast down at me with something akin to amusement. ' _Chronos,'_ I say suddenly, my smile fading. 'Chronos was the bloody Greek Primordial God of Time, wasn't he?'

McCoy huffs, seemingly exasperated in the change of conversation. 'Don't ask me, darlin'. I'm a Doctor, not a damn Historian-' He stops and snaps his mouth shut. 'Oh'.

I shake my head, fists clenched at my sides. The bastards who yanked me from my time had a damn ship named after the God of Time. Arseholes. 'The irony,' I mutter bitterly, before scoffing. 'What tests did you need to run on me - _again?'_

McCoy shrugs, and the action seems strangely relaxed for the man who I had only ever seen to be uptight and grumpy. I realise, with something like a nervous twist in my stomach, that we are having a conversation that has nothing to do with my health, my lack of knowledge about his time, and the ordeal I went through. 'Nothin', just couldn't think of anything worse than sitting through another damn argument between the Captain and the emotionally constipated First Officer-'

I pull at the hem of my black shirt. I was really starting to miss clothes that fit me properly - or were something other than black. Not to mention, my mess of red hair was sincerely missing my hair oil. 'Oh. Are they...?' I waggle my finger, my actions speaking for my words.

McCoy lets out a real bark of laughter, and my cheeks warm at...oh, shit. No. I _cannot_ suddenly find him ridiculously good looking. Guys my age who are hot? I can deal with that. _Older_ guys who are hot? They make my skin tingle, my mouth spout bullshit and my palms moist. Doctor McCoy...well, he was a damn good looking Doctor in his 30's - he was romantic novel material. I mean, minus the entire personality. 'God, no. Spock has been with Lieutenant Uhura for God knows how long - I never bothered to find out. But who the _hell_ knows anymore, I guess'.

I was starting to think that McCoy was not a fan of drama, space, and anything remotely bothersome.

It is then that we turn again, with McCoy's footsteps leading us, and turn into a circular room with only two other people present, behind a station. A young man and woman, both talking lowly to each other, perk up when they see us. In a unison of slightly apprehensive voices, they greet Doctor McCoy, who merely grunts in response.

'Oh,' I say. 'I remember this place. It's the first place I remember after escaping-' I blink, suddenly, and remember the face of a blue shirted man standing behind Jim on the _Chronos,_ yelling at Jim to hurry up and beam us off the ship. 'You were there,' I tell him, uselessly, as if he would not know. We step onto the deck, and with a cocked brow the Doctor turns to me. 'When you guys... _rescued_ me'. The word taste like shit in my mouth. _Rescued._ I hate that I even needed to be.

He crosses his arms over his chest, and I am once again thrust with the hazel eyed, intense gaze of Leonard McCoy. I try very hard not to whither under it - it was almost as bad as the Vulcan's. 'You damn near gave a concussion with a plate'.

I frown, eyebrows drawn together and wondering what in the fuck he was talking about. I then remember my masterful plan of using my metal plate as a weapon after the Creepy Woman had left me the key to my handcuffs. 'Oh, yeah!' I laugh, wagging my finger. 'Shit, sorry. I thought you were _them'._

'I figured'.

I snort and glance down at the Deck. How odd, that this had been the first place I had seen of the Enterprise only a week ago. It seemed so, so much longer. The normality of the ship was near contagious, and some tiny part of me buried far away wondered how I would deal with returning to the simplicity of life. Could I ever tell anyone what had happened to me? Probably not. Even my family would think I had gone completely mad.

'How's you neck?' McCoy asks suddenly. I look up to find him gazing at me, eyebrows drawn together and the muscle in his jaw jumping. He looks bloody concerned, and not in the manic, nagging way that I had started to associate with him. Christ. Perhaps my one minute emo session hadn't been quite so subtle.

I squint, before remembering. 'Oh, yeah. Fine. Modern medicine is pretty mind-blowing here. Oh!' I yelp, and the Doctor flinches. 'That reminds me! I wanted to ask about looking at any bio-medical equipment you might have, or if you have any recommendations on books. I've found a few, but I figured since you're the CMO-'

'Spock's coming with us,' a voice says suddenly, and we turn in unison to see Jim and Spock striding into the room. Without pausing, they both step onto the Beaming Deck, Jim's smile almost manic. Was this him trying to be reassuring? I blink away from my conversation with McCoy. Was I ever going to have a damn conversation with him about bio-medical engineering? 'You ready?' Jim asks, standing on the podium beside me.

I nod, shrug, and reply, 'Probably'.

Jim struggles with his words, before shrugging. 'That'll do. _Energise_ '.

* * *

It is so eerily the same.

We have walked down only three corridors, all of them quiet and dark. I had only seen a few minutes of the environment outside of my dark and dank room a week ago, but the metallic, dark hallways look about the same. _Chronos._ This tin can didn't deserve to be named after a God. It was nothing compared to the Enterprise. Then again, from what I had read, the Enterprise was a top of the market starship.

I walk in front, both curious and worried at the same time. Were they really banking on me remembering anything else? So far, I'd had nothing. What if this was an entirely wasted trip? ...Who cares. At least I was _doing_ something.

'This is where we found you,' Jim says suddenly. I turn to look at him, before glancing around. In all honesty, the sight didn't ring any bells. Everywhere in this place seemed to look exactly the same.

I nod. 'How big is this ship?'

Jim shrugs, blue eyes darting about the walls. McCoy stands further forward, and I notice the Tricorder sitting idly in his clenched fist by his and I refrain from rolling my eyes. Spock, on the other hand, stands as stoic as a statue behind Kirk. 'On scale with the Enterprise, it's small. More of a transportation vessel - probably why they didn't take it to far from Earth-'

I blink. 'We're not far from Earth?' I almost blush. It's probably something I should have asked before, but never thought to.

'Exactly 2.1 weeks,' Spock replies. Jim casts his gaze to the ceiling, as if praying for strength.

I nod and struggle with a thankful smile. '...Thanks'.

I turn back around, to gaze down the empty corridor. 'If this is where you found me, then...' I dart forward, trying desperately to dig through my hazy memory of that manic moment in which I had escaped my prison.

'Dammit, slow down!'

'Bones, you're going to give yourself a damn stroke if you don't calm down'.

'I agree with the Captain, Doctor'.

' _Shocking'._

I had turned down corridors, I remember that much, as the red lights had flashed above me and men had shouted in the distance. I hadn't thought to remember my path, having been so intent on finding a door that might lead me to fresh air and my family. How wrong I had been. There had been a door, though - a heavy metal one with the number-

'Two!' I breathe, grinning as I stop in front of the half open, thick mental door. The key-pad beside it was battered inwards, and I could only guess that the Starfleet people here before us had broken in. The quick footsteps behind me stop, and I turn, jutting a thumb toward the door with the roughly made number engraved on it. 'This was my crib for the two weeks that I was here'.

Jim frowns. 'Two'. I rub the back of my neck, feeling the bumpy flesh. _If there is a Two, there had to have been a One_. With that thought in mind, I push forward through the door. It was much the same. No windows. Noo carpet. Only a sink, a rough bed and the chains that had once been attached to me still lying on the floor. 'I asked Captain Diaz to order his crew to leave everything as found,' Kirk explain from behind me. 'You were in here for four weeks?'

I hum a yes, before squinting at something white pushed far into the corner.

'Captain, it appears the walls were reinforced. These are not the matching materials to those of the exterior corridor-'

I move forward, casting a quick glance over to the distracted men. Yellow and blue were huddled in the far corner of the room, as Doctor McCoy stood in the doorway and surveyed the room with a dark look, his arms crossed over his chest. I duck, finger ghosting on the cold floor as I scoop up the tiny crumpled paper. It was so small, the other crew would have easily missed it. Luckily, I knew this terrible room back to front. With deft hands, I unfurled the pages crumples so closely that the paper near crumbles in my hands.

When I read the words, my heart stutters.

'What d'you see there, June?'

I stand quickly, my hand darting to shove the paper into my pocket before I can even consider why I have done such a thing. With lying smile to McCoy, I wave a hand toward the lower half of the wall near my makeshift bed. 'Just looking at the markings I made on the wall. I tried to keep track of how long I was here for'.

'Huh,' Jim says, turning away form Spock's ever-so interesting conversation about a wall. 'Twenty-five days'.

I shrug. 'We should keep looking,' I say, moving toward where Doctor McCoy stands. He uncrosses his arms and stands straighter. I don't miss the way his gaze jumps to my pocket. 'There's one room I remember outside of this one, and I want to find it'. There is a hum of agreement, and we continue on our way, with Jim checking into the Enterprise via Comm to the assure them of our positions.

As we walk, my fingers roll the crumpled piece of paper between my fingers, my hand in the warmth of my pocket. I swallow drily, reciting the words over in my head.

 _For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse._ _You told me that._ _So collapse. Crumble. This is not your destruction. This is your birth. Perhaps, one day, I can explain myself to you. Until then, run. He will never stop until he has you again. He is Frankenstein and you are his monster, June. He will either kill you, or use you._

Insert a billion questions marks here.

A monster? The terror I feel at those words is shocking, even to me. How could I tell the others about this, without them looking at me like I was a freak? We still did not know what those men were doing to me, but this...it made me feel like I had some parasite inside of me that I didn't know about. I swallow, blink hard, and push away wondering what on Earth those words could mean.

Still, that didn't stop the inkling I had on who wrote the damn note.

* * *

 **I am back! Slowly finding out more and more. The next chapter will hold more memories, more drama and some strange tings. Also, not to be That Guy, but pleeeeease review. Considering the amount of people that follow this story and the amount of people who review, I should be getting just a tiiiny bit more reviews. Pls guys.**

 **Also, June's note was inspired by the poem by Zoe Skylar. The context will be revealed, but June is not taking credit for making up that quote. She's not _that girl._**


	8. The Ghost In You

_And she don't fade_  
 _The ghost in you_  
 _She don't fade_  
 _Inside you the time moves_  
 _And she don't fade_

The Ghost In You - The Psychedelic Furs

* * *

I stand in the middle of the room, breathless and baffled. I recognise the glass wall at the furthest end of the room. It had been where the whizzing, unexplainable tray from my memory/dream had whizzed through the air and hit it, with a clang. The sight of the room, which I only half remembered, jolts me a bit. Turns out, no matter how much I had really, _really_ wanted to believe it, I had not thought up this place in a dream. It only clarified that the Creepy Woman and her sad eyes had been real.

But why? Why had she been so sad?

 _For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse._

Jim was further back in the ship, having stopped to inspect the Bridge of the very small starship. I wasn't sure if the Enterprise was just super swanky, but the Bridge on this heap of shite had been a good 70% smaller, with only a Captain's chair and three other stations. There can't have been many people working on it. Spock and McCoy had joined me in methodically and mind-numbingly stepping into rooms, blinking around for a few seconds, and then telling their stoic faces which tried to hide their disappointment that I _could not remember this place._ There were so few rooms, anyway. According to Spock, there were two levels on this ship, and the one below held only a few quarters. All of them bare.

 _So collapse._

This room, though, I knew. It was brightly lit, with grubby, metal walls and floor that clanged beneath your feet. Work stations lined the walls, all of them completely bare. I tried to remember, hard, if I had seen anything on them in that hazy fucking memory that held no use. There were scratches littering the metal top of the counters, showing various signs of wear and tear. On the furthest wall, hidden in the corner where wall met counter, there was a dark stain.

'You remember this room?' McCoy asks, as the two men stand in silence behind me. There is a sarcastic twinge to his voice that I try not to wince in annoyance at. In ever other room, I had immediately shaken my head and backed out of it. Judging by his oh-so smart tone, I must have been gawping about the place in silence for a long while.

 _Crumble._

I try to muster up words that won't sound ridiculously dramatic or odd coming out of my mouth, but how else do you tell someone that you're pretty sure you're standing in a room where Doctors from the future used to do God knows what to you? So, I clear my throat, look uneasily at the hard table top in the middle of the room, and reply, 'I think this is where they used to take me every day. I remember...Edgar Bates being here'. I look over my shoulder at the two men and shrug. 'And, weirdly, a tray like floating or flying, or something-' I turn back around, glance around the room, and frown hard. 'Judging from whatever they were injecting me with to make me knock out that hard, I was high as a kite, though'.

McCoy darts forward, grumbling something about, 'Mad damn Scientists...', pulls something from his pocket and starts for the dark stain I had seen in the corner. Spock, on the other hand, merely steps forward to stand in line with me and crosses his arms behind his rigid back. I glance up at him, before looking down to the battered table. How many times had I lain atop that thing?

Everything that had happened to me had happened in this room, and I couldn't remember a damn thing.

 _This is not your destruction._

I move forward, aware of Mister Spock watching me. He was like an intrigued Scientist, and I was the thing he was studying. _Just remembering something, anything._ I was trying to - so fucking badly. I wanted an answer to what felt so tilted and different inside me, an answer to what Edgar Bates had told me in that messed up memory, and why.

I lay my fingers, with hard bitten nails, against the rickety, wheeled table and blink down at it, my reflection distorted in the metal. 'He told me they brought me here on purpose, but that the first one was an accident...One,' I mutter, brow furrowed. 'He said...Gems. I don't know'. I shake my head, annoyed at my useless reminiscing of memories that made no sense to me. 'He said that I was brought here on purpose...that I _survived_ , and that little gems latched on to me-'

'This is your damn blood'. I look up, just as Spock marches forward toward McCoy, who glares down at the device in his hand. 'Matches up damn perfectly'. The Doctor looks to me, mouth a hard line and expression one of genuine curiosity. 'What the hell were they doin' to you in here?'

I shrug and snort. 'Tell me when you find out, Doc-'

It is then that I see it, just a small nick in my vision to the right. On the farthest wall, where the glass separated rooms, I could see a small cracks of spiderweb in the bottom corner. I blink, snap my mouth shut, and move forward toward the glass. It was where she stood. Where I had seen her. The tray...the tray had flown through the air...but why...? Why had-

 _I had seen her before the tray flew. It was not the words from the Doctor, the one I hated, the one who stuck needles into my head and watched my brain through a screen, that had upset me. It was the sight of her, with her sad eyes and her stern face, as she watched me through the glass._

 _My cheeks still felt wet with tears, and my screams still felt raw on my throat. How many times had this happened? How many times had she punished herself by watching me through that glass because, of course, I knew it hurt her to see me. How had it taken me so long to remember such a thing? She was not like them. At first, she saw only science, but she had told you she saw something more._

 _She saw that I was not just an Experiment._

 _And with my anger at seeing her there (and how dare she looks so sad, when I suffered so much?), my hands thrashed and my feet kicked, and a wetness had bubbled out of my nostrils (metallic and familiar) as the metal tray threw through the air, hitting the spot just near her abdomen._

I blink and step back, my chest tight and my head banging as emotions whirls inside of me, a realisation that the woman, the Creepy Woman, was someone I had once associated with _safety._ Someone who _cared._ But why? Why I could I not get the memories that told me more than that? And why oh why would the anger and betrayal I had felt in that memory not leave? Why did it feel like nothing I had felt before, and why did my head feel like it was banging, and why did I taste metal at the back of my throat-

With my shaking fingertips drawing away form my nose, coloured with red, the glass in front of me shatters and explodes, just seconds after the spaceship seems to tilt and creak with a deafening sound.

 _This is your birth._

* * *

 _I am surrounded by music._

 _Dua Lipa, or something of the sort, is telling me to not trust men. I take a long sip from my straw, and the taste of expensive coke and cheap vodka hits the back of throat. I was in a Student Bar. You didn't come to places like this expecting fancy drinks._

 _The jumpsuit I am wearing, which dipped uncomfortably low on my chest, is once again yanked up by my free and clumsy hand. I had taken a long-shot wearing it, and I was starting to regret donning something that showed so much chest. It was more effort to wear than it was worth, especially when I was this drunk. I blink through the crowd, trying to find the dark hair of my best friend._

 _Amy. She was an student from abroad. China. Last summer I had stayed there with her for a week in her home-city of Shenzhen._

 _I take a step away from the leering face of some spotty eighteen-year-old, my drink sloshing over the side of the white cup. I wanted to go home. I was tired and drunk and I had a lot of work to do tomorrow. But first, I needed to wee. So, on awkward heels, I bumble toward the bathroom my footsteps surprisingly even-_

 _And then, stars explode before me. I burst of light of billions and billions of shining diamonds, bursting forth from an ink black background. I gasp, but no sound comes. I scream, but nothing comes. I kick, but I hit nothing. I feel like I am awake and asleep. I feel like I am here, but not. The stars scatter further and further apart, until they stretch for lightyears._

 _I hear voices, of a time past but present. Of a time that had happened, but not happened at all. I see blue eyes. I see hazel. I see dark hair. I see a blue shirt and I feel rough, solid hands. I see red hair, and lines on a face that is so like mine, but older. I feel happiness. I feel fear. I feel the impending story of what is about to come._

 _I burst forth from something white and burning hot, and finally my screams meet my own ears. I am somewhere large, like a hangar with a ceiling so high it seems almost black. I feel blood pouring into my mouth as my knees press hard against the floor and hands tremble before me. Something inside me, something big and dark and swirling, seems to sit hard against my lungs._

 _And I know that this is how they brought me here._

* * *

When I wake up, I groan. I'm in the damn Medical Bay. It is dimly lit and quiet, but the white ceiling and soft, crisp sheets are a reminder enough of where I am. I shift, wince, and swear.

'Head hurtin'?' I jump at the voice, halfway through sitting up against the soft pillows behind me. Whirling, I look to see Leonard McCoy sitting in the chair to the left of me. Though his eyes were alert, I could see a redness to the side of his head where I was sure he had been leaning heavily against his hand. Christ, he'd been here whilst I slept? I sometimes bloody _drooled_ when I slept.

I am about to reply something rather snippy, but then I _remember._ I am about to ask what the fuck happened, if everyone was okay, but McCoy raises a hand and cuts me off. 'Jim was in sick bay for one night with a fractured collarbone, but he's right as rain now. He was in Engineering on that piece of junk when...well, when whatever happened damn well went and happened'. I lean back against the pillows, my throat dry and my head banging. McCoy, in his pristine uniform and with a PADD slung lazily into his lap, continues. 'Spock, of course, came out as blank-faced as ever with barely a scratch on him-'

I swallow, remembering the anger, the blood on my nose, the banging in my head. Still looking at McCoy, I ask, 'And you? You're okay, aren't you?' It is, perhaps, the nicest thing I have ever said to the grumpy man.

He looks at me. 'Yeah, darlin', I'm okay'.

I frown into the silence, and sit up higher. 'What _happened?'_

He looks at me then, hazel eyes ( _blue_ , I think, _I had seen eyes so much bluer_ ) serious, and replies, after a slight pause, 'We don't know'. Somehow, I think he isn't quite telling the truth. He continues to look at me, gaze curious, before slipping back into the tone of a Doctor. 'You didn't sustain any major injuries, anyway. Few cuts form the glass on your face, but they won't scar. Thank your lucky stars you didn't get any glass in your eyes'. He stands, PADD in hand, and hovers his tall form over my bed. 'Your nose,' he says, gaze suddenly level with mine. 'Was bleeding again'.

I frown. 'Yeah...I remember that'.

'Before the ship tipped?' I blink in surprise at his only slightly more alert tone, before nodding. Why _did_ that keep happening? I swallow, grimace, and Doctor-mode comes back. Reaching for something out of my sight, he shoves a glass of cold water into my hands and orders me to drink it. As I do so, he tells me, 'You've been here for almost two days. It's four in the mornin', just now-'

I choke and gape at him. ' _Two days?'_

McCoy blinks at the lady-like display, before carrying on as if nothing had happened. 'Two days. Jim'll want to talk to you the moment you wake up, but it's too damn early and I'm sick of sleeping in a chair. You're gonna need more sleep-'

'You didn't _have_ to sleep in the chair-'

'When damn patients like you are so accident prone, I do-'

'Okay, I am not _usually_ this bad. I've never even _fainted_ before being yanked to a different bloody dimension-'

'Well, you making up for it now, that's for damn sure-'

I actually laugh at that, because shit, this guy is half as stubborn as I am. Cradling the water on my lap, I look down to see little bandages wrapped around a few of my fingers. 'Did we find out why that bloody glass exploded all over me, anyway?'

He stalls, as if shocked at the question. PADD balanced in his hands, he entirely ignores the sound of footsteps walking across the floor outside of my curtain, knowing that it was probably a Nurse of M'Benga. 'What d'you mean?' he asks, dark brow furrowed and full lips pressed tightly together. 'The glass shattered when the ship, for whatever damn reason, lost gravity'.

I look sharply at him.

Something in me tells me I should shut up, and so I do. I don't know why. I don't know why the thought of no one else seeing the glass shatter moments before the world had tilted around us scares me so much. 'Oh,' I shrug, smoothing my face down to a look of nonchalance. 'I was probably just seeing things'. At that, with my heart squeezing in my chest, I yawn and slouch against the pillows. 'Did we find anything else?'

The Doctor pauses, words trapped behind his lips, and shakes his head. Looking down at me, he says, 'Jim'll come and see you before I discharge you in a few hours. Get some more sleep. I'll...I'll be in my Office, June'.

I watch him go, his broad back turned to me and his strides fast through the curtain with a single glance back to me. I nod and bid him farewell, all the while wondering of the shattered glass, the blood on my nose, and what the Hell had happened on that horrible, dark ship.

It takes me an hour to fall asleep.

* * *

It seems as soon as I wake up, Jim Kirk is talking to me.

He's dressed in his Command yellow, a steaming cup of coffee discarded onto the table next to me. He stands quickly from his chair when my eyes flutter open, and for the first time ever I see something close to annoyance flitting across his face. What's worse, the expression seems to be directed at me.

'What-' I croak, struggling to sit up and flatten down my hair at the same time.

And then, pushing aside whatever he had been saying to my sleep addled ears, he pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his black trouser pocket, and his mouth flattens into a disappointed line. 'Bones said he saw you pick something up in the room they kept you in. Why did you hide this form us?' I nearly groan in annoyance, too tired and flat to be giving reasons for my stupid actions.

Bones was a fucking snitch.

Instead of doing what I would usually do, which is defend such actions, I shrug hopelessly. 'I don't know. I was going to give it to you when we got back...I just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own first'.

That seems to surprise him. 'Well... _Oh_ '. He drops the hand holding the paper to his side. 'What does it mean, June?' He peers at me, his arms crossing over his chest and his blue eyes digging into mine. 'Who wrote it?'

I frown, gaze flicking from his eyes and back. 'The woman...I think. The woman who took me to that weird medical room every day. I think she...I think she liked me, or felt sorry for me. That's why she let me go'. I pause. 'I know that quote. The one in the note. It's not...' I blush, thinking of how bloody corny the damn quote is. 'It's not out of the question that I might have said it to her - not that I can bloody remember,' I add bitterly.

There is another pause.

'I think she means Edgar Bates. I think she means he wants me'.

There is a pause. 'I think so, too,' Jim Kirk replies. 'He's still looking for you, then. Probably knows we have you'.

It is unspoken that she had called me a monster, and Edgar Bates my Frankenstein. A man that would, apparently, either kill me or use me. _Why why why why why? What can he possibly want with me? What can he possibly have done to me?_

I sit silent again, my mind whirling with thoughts and worries. They were all okay, yes, but that doesn't change what had happened. Whatever that was. The note. The memory. The feeling of being brought from one world to another. Do I tell them? Do I tell them how different and odd it had felt, to glimpse into realities that were neither my own, nor this one?

Do I tell them how I had felt before the glass shattered around me, before the ship had nearly torn itself a new one?

Do I tell them I think I might have been the one to cause it?

* * *

 **I am back! thank you so so so much for the reviews - apparently my bitching worked a treat. I hope you guys like the direction of this story. I want to move it on a little now, because I realised I was being quite slow. It's all very action packed from here, but I want to keep the slow burn of Bones and June realistic. Review some more and I might update sooner!**


	9. Six Different Ways

_This is stranger than I thought_

 _Six different ways inside my heart_

Six Different Ways - The Cure

* * *

'Aye, lassie. And modern technological engineering was o' course helped by those laddies-'

'Newcomen and Watt,' I grin, my palms wrapped around my steaming mug of hot, black coffee. 'I was always way more interested in Mechanical Engineering when I was doing my degree. A girl on my course was ridiculously smart, so I saw zero point in going into something where she would nab every new invention. Anyway, something about Biomedical just called out to me-'

I was sitting in the cafeteria with Mister Scotty. I had been wandering the halls of the Enterprise, glimpsing out of windows into the depths of space and ignoring the odd looks the crew were sending me. After a shitty nights sleep after being let out of the Sick Bay, I was done with being locked away in my room. Scotty had found me on a break from his Alpha shift in Engineering, and had apparently taken pity on my pathetic self. He had, much to my insistence that he didn't have to, shown me where the cafeteria was and insist that I eat with him.

'Aye, Doctor McCoy mentioned tha' you asked about snooping around his Sick Bay,' the Scottish man tells me, shovelling some more food into his mouth. I had no idea what the food was. Judging from the odd spelling of the food when it showed up on the replicator, it was something alien to Earth. I blink and look up from my own chicken sandwich at the fact that McCoy had mentioned me to another member of the crew. Not that I _cared_. 'Said he was fine with it, o' course. Guarantee that man has plenty t' show you'.

 _I bet he bloody does._

'Ey, here's Chekov, now. Boy always manages to sneak away on his break to time it wi' mine,' Scotty says, gaze somewhere behind my head as he raises his hand and waves at someone. I place the name Chekov (Russian, or Polish?) with the young man in the yellow shirt I had seen sitting at the front of the Bridge the few times I had been there. Just like that, I'm nervous. My social circle upon the ship was with only with Jim, Doctor McCoy, Jommin and Scotty. Anyone was else was awkward nods, and avoiding the curious looks of the crew. 'Think he fancies me y'know,' adds the Scotsman, throwing a wink my way to show that he was jesting. I manage a spasm of a smile in reply, shifting when a tray slides onto the spare bit of table next to me.

When I turn, it is to see a beaming young face staring right back at me.

I blink, mildly startled. '...Hello,' I say.

The man, Chekov, who I _think_ does something to do with Navigation, plops onto the bench. 'Hello! I do not think that ve have yet met!' And then, in the oh-so subtle way of men my age, his gaze blinks across my hair, my face, and the smile settles into something akin to charming. He was good looking, in that pretty, blue-eyed way. 'I am Ensign Pavel Chekov, Miss. Pleasure to meet you!'

I smile in return, assured that this _was_ one of the few people who knew my real story (and therefore didn't have to struggle to understand whatever current events they were talking about), and introduce myself right back. 'June Adams,' I offer, splaying my kindest and Just-Because-I'm-From-Another-Universe-That-Does't-Mean-I'm-Weird smile across my face.

He grins again, eyes hinting that he knows _exactly_ who I am, before jolting as if remembering something. 'Oh! Mister Scott! Commander Giotto vished for me to inform you zat he would like a rematch at your checkers game zis evening in the bar. He-' He jostles on the bench ever-so-slightly, but just enough for me to shift as to avoid sitting too close to him. Subsequently, a small spill of coffee lands on the skin between my finger and thumb, burning hot but cooling quickly.

Neither men notice the tiny incident, as Scotty seems far too engrossed in insisting this Giotto man was a sore loser, to which Chekov morosely agrees. I would not have noticed it, or even bothered to care, had a slight prick at the back of my mind not brought me blinking against the lights. I swallow, blink harder, and take a tiny sip of the dark, strong liquid.

 _Hands holding my wrists. My back flat against the cold, metal surface. Faces looming above mine. Heat against my skin, my forearms, burning but not touching me. They would always hold it away, so it didn't mark my skin._

 _'Turn up the heat,' the voice - he - says, standing at my feet. I look down at him, mouth covered by the mask, and yell every curse word I know. He merely smiles patiently. 'We know emotions cause it, but what about pain?'_

'-Because what Starfleet doesn't know won't hurt 'em, lad! I've made more improvements to this ship tha' any other Engineer _ever_ could!' My vision fuzzes back into focus to see Scotty nodding pointedly, before shovelling more food into his mouth. Looking from each man, I thank fucking _God_ that they hadn't seen my complete brain fart, and reach, with a shaking hand, to my nose.

Blood.

I wipe at my face and gulp the rest of my burning hot coffee quickly, before hurriedly sliding out form the bench. 'I just remembered I had an appointment at Sick Bay - I'll see you two later!' I feel silly, throwing such a term at them when I barely know the two men, but their brightly smiling faces make me feel slightly more like they would _like_ to see me later.

'Aye, lassie. Don't let the good Doctor frighten ya!'

'Goodbye, Miss Adams!'

I leave my mug on the table, in far too much of a rush to loiter. I shake as I walk, and every blink brings about a new image. The feel of the table on my back. The burning of the flame hovering over my skin. They _hurt_ me. They hurt me to gain some sort of damn reaction. I was nothing but an experiment - but...I was terrified to think for _what._ It was ridiculous to even consider...to even think they what they might have done to me was beyond anything I was considering.

I wipe my nose again, but my hand comes back clean every time.

I feel horrified; _violated._ Angry. I was, without a doubt, so utterly fucking furious that this was happening to me. With every memory, there came another reason to feel used and distraught. They made me into something - something which scared the living shit out of me, and was too hard to even consider - and then toyed with me until I did as they wanted. Only one person among those Starfleet Doctors had the morals to release me; to call upon the closest Federation ship.

My shoes are squeaking across the Sick Bay floor before my mind can truly comprehend where it is I am going.

There is one man, in a red shirt, splayed across one of the beds groaning as M'Benga and a Nurse flutter around above him, too distracted to notice me. I feel stupid, the moment my feet carry me closer to the Office door, so stupid that I almost stop and turn on my heel. I know that he has probably seen me through the window to his Office, though, and to tun away would be even more mortifying.

So, with my face as red as my hair and my fists in shaking balls, I stumble only once when the door (for once not a damn sliding, futuristic one) clicks open as if on its own accord - but something cold tingling at the edges of my fingers tells me different. I almost begin laughing then and there, in all honesty, but shock and adrenaline and something at the back of my head telling me that I had done something like that before seems to win out.

We stare at each other for just a moment. Him, with an almost expectant look in his eye and a book splayed out in front of him. Me, with a red face, wide eyes, and words that just won't seem to leave my mouth. Him, the calm and collected Doctor. Me, the bumbling idiot with a speech problem.

Then, with a sigh and a shift back into his chair, Doctor McCoy waves at the chair on the other side of the desk. 'Sit in the damn seat, will ya?' I remember why I came to his Office, now. No matter what I tell him, he won't look at me with utter pity. He won't tiptoe around questions, or my feelings. He won't judge anything that I say to him. 'And close the door. I don't need to hear that damn idiot wailin' about a self-inflicted injury,' he grumbles, plopping the book closed.

I do as told, studying the door for just a moment to see if it's automatic (it is not), and sidle toward the chair, my mouth still clamped shut. He studies me, with that clinical gaze, and I pretend that I don't notice.

'I'm on my break, y'know,' the Doctor says, leaning back in his seat with his hands clasped over his stomach. Mortified, I open my mouth to apologise and then run as far as I can, but he just cocks a brow and shrugs. 'Book was mind-numbin' anyway. Spock recommended it to me. May as well be in damn Vulcan, the amount I understand it'. Leonard McCoy looks at me again, hazel eyes sharp, and nods to my form. 'You goin' to tell me what's wrong?'

It's almost as if every tightness in my body seeps out. I rub my forehead, breathe in, and reply, 'Where to fuckin' begin. I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come to you. I don't know why the hell I did, really. You gave me Jommin, and I should go to her for this shit. It's just...you were on that ship, and you saw it there, and the Captain honestly looks at me like I am a severely wounded puppy-'

'Christ, June, spit it out'.

Maybe it's because he called me June, or maybe it's because I am wholly aware that I am chatting utter shite, but I blurt out, 'They hurt me,' in that oh-so eloquent way of mine.

Hazel eyes widen. Back straightens. 'What? _Who?'_

Ah. I shake my head, realising my mistake. 'Oh, bugger, no! I mean - I remembered -' I press my fingers against my arm, where the memory of burning lingers. 'They used to hurt me - to make me-' I want to say it. I do. I want to tell him of my concerns, of the flickering lights and the doors swinging open and how I feel like I need to grab onto every atom in the room when I get nervous, scared, angry or upset. 'What are you reading?'

I realise then that I didn't really come to him to talk about what I had remembered. Selfishly, I had come to him because I needed a distraction. I needed someone who didn't splay smiles across their faces and hold back on telling me the truth. McCoy, in the short time that I had known him, had become someone I associated with the brute honesty of my English heritage.

He purses his lips, before replying. 'I'm not gonna be swayed that easily, Adams'.

I sag and sigh. 'Take pity on me. I feel like a bloody moron for storming in here'.

'I can tell, sweetheart'. I glare at him. He cocks a brow right back at me. 'Y'know, not a lot of people come to me for a distraction. You must be every bit as damn mad as I thought you were'. He peers at me when I open and close my mouth, trying to put together some kind of defence. 'Don't go lookin' at me like that. Damn blind man can see you wandering about this ship, bored out of ya mind-'

'Don't say it like _that_ ,' I snap. 'I'm grateful-'

'No one said anythin' about you bein' ungrateful'. He sits back in his chair, chin held high and brown hair a scruffy mess atop his head. 'You remembering things again? Stuff they did to you?'

I meet his gaze, uncomfortable and embarrassed. 'I know I should have comm'd the Captain. I know it's not you I should be telling. It's just...you are, _shockingly_ , a hell of a lot easier to talk to. Despite your truly abysmal bedside manner and your shit social skills, you don't look at me like I'm some bloody... _tragedy_ '. I breathe in, avoiding his gaze and the way he shifts in his seat (likely as uncomfortable as I am with the poorly given sentiment), and blurt out, 'They would burn me'.

 _Fire held close to my skin. Never touching. Never marking me. The protective swell of something that had never been part of me (but was now, so integrated into my very being) would swell in the back of my mind; tingle like ice at my fingertips. It was what he wanted. He wanted to see it. To test me. To see what would bring out the-_

'He wouldn't let it touch me,' I tell McCoy, a tone of reassurance in my voice as I look back up at the scowling Doctor. I shrug. 'It never hurt that much, I guess. I'm used to burns, from soldering and such. But...it was like he was trying to get some kind of reaction out of me. I don't...' I do know. I know that there is something s entirely different about me, but I can't grasp what. That, or I want nothing less than to acknowledge it. Speaking of it would give it a reality.

In that moment, I want nothing more than my mother and father to be sitting either side of me.

McCoy shifts forward, hands clasped in front of him and blue uniform pressed against his form. He beseeches my gaze, and with a cringe I look at him. I don't expect the words that come out of his mouth, but when they do, I all but want to laugh at the ridiculousness of them. 'You okay, sweetheart?' He tilts his head forward, eyes oddly serious and jaw tense, and I want to bloody scream with laughter. So many people had asked me if I was okay in the last few weeks, but something about the way in which he asks me really hits home.

Instead, I shrug and snort, and say, 'Who the fuck knows, Doc'.

He accepts the answer with a tilt of his head, as if to say _that's fair._ 'You got any idea what they were tryin' to do?'

 _The tray flying across the medical room on the damn ship. The glass shattering. The lights flickering. The door opening. The swelling feeling in the back of my head, as if something was itching to get out._ It was part of me, but something so new. Terrifying, to even consider what it was, and what travelling across a bloody dimension had done to me; to cause it. They would think I was a freak. They would think I was dangerous. They would think I was mad, or odd, or dramatic for even considering any of those things happened because of me.

'No'.

He pauses, searching my face with those hazel eyes, before breathing out heavily through his nose. 'I'll report this to Jim'. I sag in relief, but also put on a slight show of attempting to protest. 'Darlin', don't even pretend that wasn't your intent all along, huh?' At that, I swallow and smile as he cocks an amused brow. 'Jim means well. He just...hell, the kid is as charmin' as they come. I've seen him talk his way out of some damn near lethal situations. Just because he's Captain, doesn't mean he knows what kind of reaction people need-'

I scoot forward in my chair, alarmed. 'Shit. _Please_ don't think I am not entirely fucking grateful for what he's doing for me, I just...' I swallow my babbling. 'For some odd reason, Doctor, you were the first person I thought of when I realised I had to tell _someone_ '. I bite my tongue, cringing. 'Selfish, I know'.

'Quit bein' such a damn worrier. My God, woman'.

'Oh, bugger off'.

There is a pause, in which I chew the side of my mouth, realising that the meeting was coming to a close. The silence is broken by McCoy huffing out a sigh. 'Suppose this means I've gotta offer up my services as an impressive listener from now on?' I am right about ready to reply that no, he does not have to do that, my face tinging red with mortification. 'Christ. Will you calm down? I was pullin' your leg. Just don't come bangin' on my Quarters at some unholy hour, and we're good'.

I smile, and he rolls his eyes, before sliding from his seat. 'Now, seein' as you're already here...' He trails off, rounding the table, and I watch him with curiously. With a smug look adorning his rugged face, the Doctor tugs open the Office door and juts his chin toward the Medical Bay. 'You were due some vaccines once I figured out just how damn many you needed. Seein' as you're here...'

'Er... _no_ , you're alright-'

'Get ya damn behind on a Med-Bed before I throw you on one. I already have to chase Jim for a good three days to get him to do his vaccines, don't make me add you to my shit-list, too, sweetheart'.

* * *

'That wasn't so damn bad, was it?'

I rub my neck, my butt sore form sitting for so long, and glare up at the Doctor. 'Jesus, is this pay back for me getting all emotional on you? You're a fucking torturer, not a Doctor'.

He snorts, sorting through the hyposprays on the tray before us. The curtain was drawn, and the quiet from beyond told me that the wailing man in the red-shirt was gone. 'Think you're thinkin' of Doctors form your time, sweetheart'.

I swear to God my, ovaries all but quivered every time he called me that. 'We weren't _that_ bad-'

McCoy scoffs. 'Slicin' people open like it was goin' out of damn fashion-'

'That is _not_ what we did!' I laugh. I was rather getting used to the Doctor's tirade of apparent hate toward the way people from my time lived their lives. Still, a lot had changed in this Universe, the Eugenics Wars causing people to rush along with technological advances and become more accepting of each other. I wasn't about to tell him just how shitty things had been in my world before coming here. 'Bloody drama queen'.

It quietens for a moment, as the Doctor throws away the used hyposprays. I watch him, interested in the technology, as well as the way his hands hold them steady. Even in the short time I had spend on the Enterprise, I had heard near non-stop about Doctor McCoy and his 'magic hands'. It was almost overwhelming, to be surrounded by so many people that were apparently the best of the best in their fields. He was a thirty-something surgeon, CMO on a bloody starship. And then there was me, a twenty-four year old, halfway through her Masters degree who said the wrong thing more than she said the right thing.

'Have you remembered anythin' else about the woman who wrote you that note?' I look away from his hands, my cheeks warm, and try to register what it is that he has asked me.

'Oh'. I blink, fingers curling against the edge of the bed. 'No. Nothing. I just...she seemed like she wanted to help. It's just a feeling, y'know?' I shrug. 'Sorry for trying to hide it from you, the Captain and Mister Spock. It was dangerous. I shouldn't have done that'.

'No,' he agrees, looking sideways to meet my gaze, still disposing of the many hyposprays. 'You _shouldn't_ '. I hold his gaze, attempting to relay to him in any way that I could that I was aware of the severity of what I had done, and I had no intention of hiding anything from them any time soon. No matter how false that was. 'You'll remember more - worst thing ya can do is force it. Brain's got pockets and pockets of memories. Just gotta figure out which pocket you need to peak into. Brain is the strongest muscle in the human body. Well, that or the masseter, but that doesn't exactly go with my point-'

I blink.

 _'The brain is the strongest muscle in the body, Two'. He peers at me, his clothing seemingly gleaming in the dankness of my cold and dark room. I am pressed against the furthest wall, legs bent in front of me and eyes bleary with whatever drug I was recovering from. 'You are still learning how to use this new ability. Push your brain like you would any other muscle'._

I blink, the sight of McCoy surging back to me with a force, still in the same place he was before. I leave behind the cold memory of the room, and the man's harsh blue gaze, and instead find myself stumbling to my feet, my heart hammering and my breath short. McCoy whirls on me, maybe thinking I was having a bad reaction to the vaccine, and his strong hands come to grip on my forearms.

It happens, then.

The world jolts, as if the Enterprise had been tipped. It reminds me so suddenly of what had happened on the _Chronos,_ that I nearly scream in frustration _It's me. It's me_. Medical instruments come shattering to the floor. Alarms blare. The rooms floods red with the lights and a recorded voice blares throughout the Medical Bay.

'Jesus,' McCoy swears, hands still planted on me as we are shoved back into the bed. My backside smacks against it. My mind aches with something. It was there, knocking to be let out. My heart still hammers from the shock of the memory, but now something else... _We know emotions cause it,_ he had said. Even shock?

'Dammit. We must have fallen out of warp-' McCoy turns away form looking over his shoulder, to land his gaze down on me. With a furrowed brow, he murmurs, 'Dammit, June...Your nose is _bleeding_ '.

I shove myself away from him and fist my hands under my armpits, my blood roaring through my ears. 'Don't'. I shuffle away from the stern looking Doctor. 'I don't want to hurt you-'

The alarms stop. The bright lighting floods back on.

McCoy stares at me, something like a suspicion confirmed lingering in his gaze, even as the Captain's voice echoes around the ship. ' _Sorry about that. Something dropped us out of warp, but we have Engineering working on it now. Anyone injured go straight to Medical'._ There is a pause, in which I remain horrified and McCoy edges toward me, mouth opening. ' _June Adams to the Bridge. That's all'._

* * *

 **I am back! Okay, so this story should last maybe four or five more chapters, then we can get going with moving beyond the origin story of June. I have big plans for this story! I hope everyone is enjoying it, and thank you so much for the reviews! I am going to be a nag again, and remind everyone that if you're following this story, please review!**


	10. Everybody Wants To Rule The World

_Welcome to your life_  
 _There's no turning back_  
 _Even while we sleep_  
 _We will find you_

Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears

* * *

'-It's an escape pod. That much is obvious. All three were missing on the _Chronos_ when the Federation ship inspected it before us'. Jim looks at me, his gaze serious and his arms straight at his side. I had never seen someone who was able to switch between their usual, relaxed self into such an entirely different person as Captain Kirk did. From what McCoy had told me, I had only seen a sliver of just how friendly and relaxed Jim _could_ be. 'We've been trying to track them for the last few days. With such...weak technology as the Chronos had, we need to be within a certain _close_ distance to find the pods'.

He pauses, and I swallow. My head still ached, and McCoy's place solidly by my side reminded me of what had transpired before I had turned on my heel and tripped away from the Medical Bay toward the Bridge, wiping my bloody nose as I went, the Doctor hot on my heels. 'We're...within distance of one, right?'

Jim tilts his head to the side, ridiculously blue eyes still on me. 'We don't know what dropped us out of warp, but it was just as Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Chekov located one of the pods'. I stiffen at his words, doing my best not to glance uneasily toward the larger form of McCoy next to me. The Doctor, with all his tact, merely clears his throat loudly.

Why had I said that to him? _Why?_

I think of Edgar Bates. The definition of every mad scientist from films in the 80's, with his wild blue eyes that did not fit with his clean demure. I only had snippets of memories of him; memories that held clues to what he had been doing to me, and what he had done to someone before me. Was he on the pod that we were so close to? Was the Enterprise going to catch the people who had done this to me? _There were three pods. Was the woman who helped on one of them?_

I close my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me, and breathe in. McCoy's hand ghosts against the small of my back, but it is gone just as quickly as it appears. He shuffles when I open my eyes, but I still don't look up at him, my cheeks hot and my stomach tight. 'Where is it?' I ask Jim. 'How close?'

He glances to McCoy, a look that holds some meaning, before looking back at me. 'On a planet, just near us. It's a Federation friendly one, small but populated with only half a billion. Its the perfect place for them to have gone...' Something changes in his gaze as he looks at me, almost like guilt. I know what he is about to ask me before he even voices it. Apparently, so does McCoy.

'Jim. _No-'_

Jim makes a tutting sound and sighs, turning on his friend with more animation than he had shown me. 'Bones, it's our _only_ way to guarantee and identify anyone we might find-'

I finally look up at the Doctor, and see his eyebrows raised so high on his forehead that I'm half surprised he hasn't strained himself. With his arms solidly crossed across his chest now, he squints angrily at the Captain. 'You ever think for a second about the well-bein' of the woman you're so supposed to be protectin', Captain? Ever think that maybe she doesn't wanna face the people who-'

 _Kidnapped me. Burnt me. Used me. Changed me._

 _This is my fight. Let me fight it._

I cut McCoy off, half-annoyed that I was, for the billionth time since being rescued, being told what was good for me. 'I'll go'. Both men shut up, and Jim turns to me with a smug look. 'I mean...that's what you were asking, right?'

The Captain licks his lips, as McCoy tuts beside me. 'You realise what we're asking of you?'

I nod. _Nope. Not really, but what the hell? I've got nothing else to do today. Or tomorrow. Or the next day._

'This is an alien planet...first time you will have set foot on solid earth in a long time, June'. I continue to look at him, brow cocked and lips pursed. That alone shows me answer. 'Alright. We'll beam down in thirty minutes. Spock can take the Chair'. He casts his blue eyes tiredly over to the Doctor. 'I take it you want to join the ground team, Doctor McCoy?' There is a hint of sarcasm in the Captain's tone, his light brow raising teasingly.

There is an awkward pause.

'I have about ten more vaccines that, as CMO of this ship, I can order you to have, Jim. Remember that'. I nearly roll my eyes. Had the situation been any different, I'm pretty sure that I would have. 'Any damn idea what caused this tin can to drop out of warp?'

The serious, Captain-y look falls onto his features once more. 'None. Scotty figures its some fault in Engineering - nothing too serious. Anything else would have shown a red flag in the-'

'You're sure it was Engineering, though?' I blurt out, before I can stop myself.

Jim throws me a queer look. 'What else would it be?'

I blink, shrug, and mumble, 'I dunno. _You're_ Captain-'

The Southern, angry drawl cuts me off, as McCoy steps forward and closer to his friend, his shoulders hunched and his arms uncrossed. 'Jim, can Starfleet even _authorise-'_

I am so close to _throttling_ these two men. 'Doc, it's _fine,'_ I stress, placing a hand on the Doctors arm in an attempt to get him to shut the fuck up. He slams his mouth shut, turns his narrowed gaze on me, and frowns so hard I'm half sure his face is going to pull a muscle.

'They have,' Jim replies. I raise my brow at the Doctor, my hand falling away from the warmth of his arm. 'Christ - tell me how you get him to shut up like that, and I'll appoint you a damn negotiator on this vessel, June-'

'Ha, damn, _ha'._

I throw the Captain a smile, before he excuses himself back to the Bridge, reminding McCoy that I needed to be up to date on my vaccines, to which the Doctor replies snippily, 'Dammit, Jim, _I_ am Chief Medical Officer. She already _is'._

When the door slips shut behind the Captain, the small room with a singular desk and screen decorating it suddenly feels suffocating. Awkwardness seems to settle into every damn pore of my being, as I shuffle and yank idly at the red curls, my brain struggling to think of something to say. Was I not massively distracted by the fact I was about to touch down on alien Earth, I might have mixed up some lie to defend the words I had said to the Doctor earlier-

'You don't wanna _hurt_ me, huh?'

 _Crap._ I turn to the man, who wastes no time in staring me down with that harsh gaze. Turns out the thing I liked about McCoy - honest, brash, shockingly easy to talk to - was also going to be my downfall. I blink, drop my hand from my hair, and shrug. 'I mean, not _all_ the time, no, Doc-'

Ah. The arms are crossing again. That means he's pissed. 'My name is Leonard, or Doctor McCoy, and you're a damn liar'.

I pretend to gape in offence. 'I have no _idea-'_

He steps closer, arms still crossed and the blue of his uniform contrasting with the dark of the room and my own clothes. McCoy - Leonard, whatever - peers at me, concern and agitation written all over his features. I look up at him, remembering for perhaps the first time just how much time this man - a man who was very vocal about being tired of seeing my face loitering around his Sick Bay - had taken to help me recently. 'I've been a Doctor for a long damn time, June Adams. I know when someone's omittin' the truth from me. I ain't askin' you to tell me now - hell, I can't even begin to understand what you would be hidin'...You can tell us. Me. Jim. What-damn- _ever_. The look on your face after we dropped out of warp was somethin' I can sure as shit recognise after havin' one hell of a failed marriage'. He steps closer again, and the brow furrows even further. 'You blamed yourself, and God knows why, but it tells me you know somethin' they did to you, and you just don't want to tell us'.

I stand there, like a bloody idiot, my mouth hanging open and my mind going over about a million different ways to reply to that. I was always pretty good at making some kind of answer, even if I didn't know what the hell people were asking me. My lecturer in my Control Systems Design and Analysis module was the first person to call me out, however amused, that I seemed to have the ability to bullshit my way out of the things.

Finally, I reply, dropping my clueless act, 'I just can't. Not yet. Not until I _see...'_ See what, I'm not sure. See him? See her? Or, maybe, remember fully it was what they did to me, because right now I'm not sure how I _would_ explain anything to Jim or McCoy. I trail off, frown, and shrug. Helpful, I know.

He looks at me, before nodding. 'Fine. I'm trustin' you here, sweetheart. Hell, hope to the high damn heavens that you're just bein' damn dramatic'.

I snort. 'Probably'.

He half smiles at that, and my cheeks warm and my palms sweat and, ah shit, I can't get a crush on the damn Doctor. That's just the last damn thing I need and, in all honesty, I had so much shit to worry about that I was almost _offended_ by my own lack of control. 'I gotta head back to Medical and tell M'Benga that I'm bein' dragged to God knows where-'

I laugh, incredulous. ' _Dragged_?'

He shoots me a look. 'Like I can leave you on a damn rain-forest infested planet without you bein' stung or bitten or eaten by some cannibalistic plant-'

' _What?'_

'Welcome to the future, Miss Adams. Now, c'mon. There's one more shot I wanna give you-'

'Aw, _no_ '.

'Quit your whinin' - c'mon'.

* * *

The Beaming Deck is the same as before, but my nerves are about a million times worse than they had been when I had beamed aboard the _Chronos_. I recognise the woman with us. She had joined us on the _Chronos_ and she was from Security. The other guys is a brand new face. The Captain stands beside me, as well as McCoy and the woman I recognise to be Lieutenant Uhura. She was, Jim had informed me upon McCoy and I walking into the Beaming Room, an incredibly skilled linguist and was the only person on the ship who knew the language of the people of Clion 2BA.

Clion 2BA. A planet. A whole new planet that _I_ was about to set foot on.

I had whipped up a map of the planet on my PADD when McCoy's back had been turned, and found that it was just past Jupiter. I had glanced at Earth on the map of the galaxy, a homesickness for a world I had not even set foot on in this universe whirling through me.

Doing this...it would get me that much closer to going home.

Neck still stinging from the shots McCoy had given me, I rub the small bump, my fingers trailing back to where the _02_ tattoo sat. I forgot it was there sometimes. Jim glances at me, a smile on his face. 'He got you with the vaccines too, huh? I'm pretty skilled at hiding from our good Doctor, if I do say so myself. Y'should hide down near Security - never sets foot there-'

The good Doctor, apparently, cottons on to the conversation. 'Because the damn Red Shirts are absolutely damn insane-'

The woman, Uhura, practically glides onto the Beaming Deck with a sharp eye trained toward the two men. 'Says the man who befriended James Kirk, Doctor. Slightly hypercritical, don't you think?'

McCoy, who catches my amused gaze, rolls his eyes and replies. 'You've got a point, Lieutenant'.

'I know, Doctor McCoy'.

I don't think I have ever felt less part of something in my entire life. It makes me miss my life from home even more. The familiarity of the people, the jokes, the conversation. I smile, bow my head, and look down at my dark shoes.

'Now,' the Captain says, as the three red shirted women flutter around the control panel in front of us. 'We know the natives of Clion 2BA to be part of the Federation, but we also know that there are Clans that are against that - _us_. The _USS Diplo_ has been working on aiding the villages with medical care and education, and to help recover from the civil war of Clion-'

I turn to McCoy, throwing him a look that yelled: _well, you didn't mention **that** , douchebag. _

He merely cocks a brow, as if to say, _you got yourself in this damn situation, not me._

'-We're staying far away from the villages who are against Federation involvement. And, please, I think we learnt last year not to touch any funky looking plants - yes, Lieutenant Uhura I know that was my doing - so June-' He looks to me, and I blink under his gaze. With a shifty look, Jim says, 'Do _not_ go near a plant that looks like it is smiling at you. It is not _half_ as friendly as it looks'.

I don't even have enough energy in me to reply that only an idiot would do that, but I think my expression speaks for itself.

'Good. Energize'.

It seems like I only blink, and then I am in air that is damper and cooler, with a sharp tinge of something sweet like fruit, with cut grass mixed into the smell. I open my eyes, and my world bursts with green. We are standing in a meadow, just in front of what looks like a thick and tall rain-forest. The grass beneath my feet is thick and long, and the moisture of it seeps through my dark trousers. I look up, and the sky is a cloudy mix of blues and greys. The air is filled with birds, insects-

And on my face, for the first time in a long time, I feel the _wind._

 _An alien planet._ One that probably existed in my home world, too. It was manic - mad - to even begin to think that this place had existed alongside Earth for so long. It had its own history, its own people - Clions - its own native animals and food and water and-

'You okay there, June?' Jim asks.

I just about manage a hysterical laugh in reply.

'She's fine,' McCoy replies.

I gaze around, turning on my heels to look further away from what I had already seen. I hadn't even thought of how much I missed _weather_ until this moment. As Jim orders the two members of Security to assess the area, he speaks with Uhura about the tribes nearby, and the dialects that she knew. Oddly, I want to cry. I don't, rest assured. I think I would have died of mortification if I had done that.

It doesn't change how selfishly lucky I feel to be seeing something that others from my time would kill to see. I feel happy and lucky and free, and I shouldn't...because I have left people behind that-

'Remember the first time I left Earth,' McCoy says, standing next to me now. He gazes around himself, his jaw set and his frown shockingly in place. 'Hated every damn second of it'.

I glance at him, still struggling with how to make a sentence. 'So you decided to work on a bloody space exploration starship? Smart, Doc'.

'Leonard'.

I blink, remembering how many times he had reminded me of this. 'Leonard,' I agree.

'300 meters West,' Jim Kirk announces, holding up a hologram. I can only just see what it shows, but I guess the red, blinking dot on it is where we are headed. Snapping the little contraption shut, he glances to his team. 'This way. Eyes either side. Phasers set to stun, but hold fire until we know the intent'.

I frown, gaze shifting to the rain-forest that surrounds the meadow. Everything look untouched; like no life lived here at all. 'I thought he said the... _bad_ tribes were far away?'

McCoy... _Leonard_ scoffs. 'You'd be surprised with how damn unlucky we are'.

'Well, don't say _that,_ dude'.

The two Security that Jim had sent off soon join us, assuring the Captain that there did not seem to be any natives nearby. Uhura, more to me than anyone else, explained that the nearest village was that of Uk'Ta, and was three miles north, deep in the rain-forest. It was friendly, and held a school that taught Standard English and Mathematics, as supplied by the Federation. At my onslaught of questions, she answers patiently, as we trample over the wet grass, and finally reach the brink of the rain-forest.

The noise of insects grows massively, and McCoy grumbles whilst Jim nods and reminds the Security and Uhura that the trees can be used as cover for any enemies. 'They could be close, or they could be far away. They would have crashed here weeks ago'.

The only noise after that is the sound of us walking, and my own heart hammering in my ears. I had never seen somewhere so... _beautiful_. The trees seem to stretch for miles above us, hiding the murky grey of the sky. Rain begins splattering at some point, but I'm not really sure when. The moisture is a welcome difference compared to the dryness of the _Enterprise_ , and I hold out my fingers as subtly as I can, rolling the wetness between my index finger and my thumb.

Greens and reds and yellows burst around us, a beautiful mix of colour. Birds fluttering above, and I swear at some point I see something that looks like a money, but smaller and far too blue. All I think is how much my father would have loved to see such a thing, considering the amount of mind numbing countryside walks he had taken me on when I was younger. And now, even.

'You look around any more and you're gonna pull a damn muscle in your neck'. I look at McCoy, who stands hunched and displeased and so out of place in the nature, and grin, truly happy to be free of the confines of the ship and with a _purpose._ I was helping. I was _doing_ something. I can't even be annoyed at his sour attitude. McCoy blinks at me as I grin, before tripping on a mossy, damp twig and swearing.

'Captain - _there_ '.

I whirl to where the Security Ensign is pointing, my stomach cold with nerves. We stop. Pushing a hand through my damp, now knotted curls, I step forward to get a better look. It was hard to miss, in the mass of trees and green. The escape pod, cylinder and maybe ten meters in width and height, sits among a bundle of battered trees, moss already growing on the top of it.

The Captain moves forward, a yellow among the green, and the two Ensigns follow him. All of their phasers are drawn, and my back automatically stiffens.

'Captain,' Uhura says, following him closely with her ponytail swinging. ' _Careful_. We don't know if any of them are nearby, sir'.

'Jim'. McCoy leaves my side to go forward, his demure tense and his distaste for the sodden ground obvious. 'All three belts on the pod have been used - at least three of 'em got off that damn thing. We need to be careful. Look - the Medical Kit was taken. They're hurt-'

I stand back, wet and curious, and look around us.

It tingles in the back of my mind, first. The knowledge that someone, or something, was near. Don't ask how I _know_ what it bloody meant. Perhaps, in the darkest parts of what they had made me forget, I had felt that feeling before. Another sense. Another new feeling. The murmuring voices of my companions seem to go quiet as I stiffen, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

It is then that I see _him_ out of the corner of my eye.

When I turn, I see only an outline, but a familiar one. White hair, pale skin, a thin mouth. He's past a dozen thick trees, almost a dream amongst the scene before me. His aura brings forth a need to move to him; to make sure he doesn't disappear like so many of my hallucinations have. My breath catches, and I begin to move without my own knowledge - my feet carrying me over the wet grass. I can't be sure if what I am seeing is real, because I have seen so much that hasn't really been in front of me so often over the last few weeks.

With another step, I see that he is gone.

I know only that I have to know if he was really there - I can't let him go. Not when those on the Enterprise have done so much to try and help me. I move quickly, knowing that they are nearby, that nothing truly bad can happen to me-

I know it is stupid. I know that I should not be walking off alone. But in that moment, all I see if a man that I hate more than anything in the universe, and I want nothing more than to get him.

That, and I feel as if he wanted me, and only me, to see him.

I push through the trees, my hands pushing me forward against the wet, rough bark of them. My foot falls into a small puddle, and I scramble forward, desperate to find him again. My breathing comes out in short puffs, and my eyes well with frustrated tears. I _can't_ have imagined it. Not again. I can't have seen things, or memories, _again_.

 _'June!'_

McCoy.

And then, in the buzz of the forest, he speaks. ' _Two'._

It is a breath of a voice, so full of want and compassion that I want to be sick. I turn and see him, his clothes surprisingly smart and intact for where we are. He is the same as my memories, his white hair pushed from his long face, and his blue eyes so startling that I wonder how I ever could have forgotten them. He stands in between two tall trees, shadowed by the large leaves, with his shoulders wet. _Edgar Bates._ The man who had torn me from my existence without even a moments thought.

My kidnapper.

I can only stand and look and wonder how he can look at me with such love, when he barely knows me. When he did such _terrible_ things to me.

'You _bastard,'_ I snarl. ' _What did you **do** to me?'_

He smiles, patronisingly, and two things happen at once.

First, I hear heavy footfalls behind me, hurried and loud. I know that it is McCoy, because as he has reminded me many times, he is CMO, and looking out for his patients is his number one concern. Second, I hear three loud and sharp small explosions, and feel the ground shake beneath my feet. I duck, hands flying to my head, and whirl to look at where I had left my... _friends._ Smoke rises, but no fire, and with a squinted gaze I see Doctor McCoy standing just a few meters away, looking behind him. He whirls to look at me, face damp, before turning to the man behind me.

'It's _him!'_ I yell, and before I can stop myself I am moving forward to run, to get McCoy as far away from these monsters as I can. Something sharp hits me in my neck though, and things begin to go black before I can even comprehend what is happening.

'You damn _bastards!'_

 _Bastards?_ I think, my knees already hitting the ground. _The others are here. Oh, God. Oh, no._

The last thing I hear before sleep entirely envelopes me is a thud, a groan, and Edgar Bates' terrible voice.

'A surgeon. How wonderful. _Just_ what we need'.

* * *

 **omg okay so I am so excited with the concluding chapters of June's origin. After this, onto the films! Well...kind of. Please, please, PLEASE review. I am working my arse off with the storyline in this, and I would really appreciate if everyone (well, that's never going to happen, but you know what I mean) would just write the tiniest comment! I had near 100 followers for this. C'mon guys. Do a bitch a favour.**

 **Anyway, thank you so, so much for reading and I hope you are enjoying!**


	11. Good Times Bad Times

_Good times, bad times_  
 _You know I had my share_

Good Times Bad Times - Led Zeppelin

* * *

When I was sixteen, a girl in my year died.

It was shocking, of course. It happens to most people in their youth; when they realise their own mortality despite how young they are. It makes you look at the world in a completely different way, and all those you know in it. You will die, and you have no say in how or when it will happen. I could be like her, the girl, being hit by a car at half four in the afternoon on a Thursday, as she walked home from school, or it could be locked away in a room with your heart in your throat.

These are the first thoughts I have when I wake up. Cheerful, I know.

The room is different from the one they had me locked in on the _Chronos_. It's less damp, and smells musty rather than dirty. The air is cool and cold, and it is not a rubber mattress I wake up on, but tiled flooring that sticks to my cheek when I sit up. I blink, my head throbbing in a familiar way that tells me they drugged me. Old habits die hard, I guess.

'Drink'.I jump, the yelp falling out of my mouth and echoing around the brightly lit room. I scan around me blearily, my legs curled at my side, from the metal walls, where scratches and nicks mark them, to find Doctor McCoy sitting with his back against the wall just a few feet from me, holding out a large, metallic bottle. He looks far more alert than I feel, but his blue shirt is still damp from the rain and his boots are scuffed with mud. 'Whatever drug they gave you will have made you dehydrated. Drink'.

It makes a difference, I suppose. Not waking up alone for once.

I stagger to my feet and fall against the wall next to him, my throat dry and my neck stinging. Taking the bottle from his hands, I gulp back some warm water, before placing the bottle with a clang between us.

'I am so sorry,' I murmur, shame and irritation at myself seeping through me. I remember the bangs, then. The three sharp explosions that sounded just as Edgar Bates had faced me. I turn to McCoy. 'Jesus, the _others_ -'

He turns to me sharply, his arms hanging over his bent knees. His expression is that of not a Doctor now, but a Starfleet Officer in danger. 'We cannot think about that now, ya hear me? All that matters is gettin' out of this damn place, and _then_ gettin' to the ship. You're precious cargo, darlin', Starfleet can't have you in danger-'

I try to shove away the burning shame, knowing full well that this was entirely my fault. How weak must he think me? He was someone who was trained to react in situations like the one we had been in, and I had gone forward without even thinking. If the others were hurt...It was my fault. 'How long have you been awake?' I ask, rubbing my forehead and clearing the bleariness from my mind.

'An hour - maybe less, maybe more'. He shrugs, before jutting his chin toward the bolted, heavy looking door in front of us. 'Someone came in a few minutes after I woke up. Handed me the damn water and left without sayin' a thing. Wouldn't say a damn word when I asked what the hell they wanted'.

I perk up. 'Was it a woman?'

He shakes his head, and I frown. _She_ wasn't here, then.

He rubs his fingers together, his gaze once again trained on the door, deep in thought 'Seems they want me for somethin'. Need a surgeon, or somethin'. One of their own is hurt down here-' I turn to him at that, my mouth opening in question. The Doctor huffs. ' _Right_. I figure we're in one of the underground bases Starfleet made when they found this place. Some storage facility for medical equipment and such from decades ago. Turns out Uhura's mass knowledge on useless crap is good for somethin'. 'Course _they_ would know about it, bein' Starfleet and all'.

I blink in recognition. 'They said they needed a surgeon-' I cut myself off glancing around the room. 'This is _different._ Last time, they had me handcuffed-' I swallow, and remember again what had happened before I passed out. ' _He's_ here'.

 _He is Frankenstein and you are his monster, June. He will either kill you, or use you._ The words the woman had written in that note, left in my past cell, rang in my head. He finally had me again. Her efforts to free me had been wasted.

McCoy nods. 'Take it that was the one and only Edgar Bates?' I nod. 'Damn bastard'. Silence lapses for a moment, and I see McCoy glancing around the room, probably trying to figure out some way to get out of this place. With a huff and a sigh, he pushes himself to his feet uneasily, almost as if the action hurt him. 'Twisted my damn back when they shot us down,' he grumbles, rubbing the small of his back.

'Old man,' I quip, climbing to my feet also. I got us into this situation - there was no use sitting around, being half as useless as I already had been. Leonard merely titters in reply, pressing his hands against the wall on his side of the room sparse room, whilst I take the other side. It looked as worn and torn as the _Chronos_ , but I suppose there was some comfort in the fact that I was no longer floating in space. The _Enterprise_ may be the only place that I would feel safe doing that, knowing full well that Scotty was a trusted Engineer.

How I missed the simple world of Engineering. The hardest thing before this was exams, was finding a placement for my Masters, impressing my lecturers and finding funding for my work...

Scotty. All of them. They would know, now that Leonard and I had been taken. My stomach turns as I think of Jim, Lieutenant Uhura, and the two Security personnel who I had not even learnt the names of. What if they had been hurt because of my idiocy...The explosions had been small...almost as if they had been a distraction, rather than with the intent to hurt...

Or maybe I was just trying to reassure myself.

'Do you think they know where we are?' I squint to the ground, to the ceiling, to the walls. Maybe there was some weak point...

His voice is gruff, as usual, when he speaks. 'Depends. Lotta Starfleet bases use material that hides them from most tracking systems - matter of Security and such. Been in far worse situations than this, sweetheart. Jim won't give up on us. He's alright'. I want to tell him it's not me I'm worried about. Instead, I wipe the sweat from my brow, push my red bundle of hair from my face, and round the room some more until I am nearing the door. '...The hell?'

'What?' I dart for McCoy, squinting when I catch sight of something glistening and gold in his hands. When I see what it is, my mind comes to a stand still. 'What the _fuck_?' I snatch the object from his hands, ignoring his affronted sound, and glare at the little hoop earring that I would recognise anywhere. 'This is _mine'._

I look up at McCoy, expecting some kind of reaction from him, but he only stares down at me, stubble catching in the shadowy light and hazel eyes narrowed. 'Well, they sure as shit kept you well dressed'. I gape at him, and he cocks a brow. 'Not a jokin' matter. _Noted_. So, you remember this damn place?'

I shake my head, still holding the earring. 'No...This must be where they kept me when they first took me. This is what I was wearing on that night...I-' I blink, snap my mouth shut, before clenching my hand around the jewellery. With a yelp, I smack McCoy on the arm. ' _This is where they first had me!'_ He jumps and glares at me. ' _This -_ holy Christ, this must be where they...I mean, where they have whatever the fuck brings people back from different times!' I frown. 'God, that sounds stupid to say out loud'.7

'Try hearin' it'.

'Ha ha'. I frown, still fingering the small piece of home I have in my hands. With a sigh, I slip it into the pocket of my trousers. 'Take it they took your phaser?' McCoy nods. 'Of course. We've _gotta_ get out of here and tell Jim - if there's _any_ way we can find what brought me here, we can stop it from happening again. Or...' _I can go home._ I don't say the words. Saying them out loud would only add hope.

'Gotta get the hell out of here first-' He cuts himself off, his brows drawing together quickly as he lays a hand flat against the wall. I am about to ask him what the hell is wrong, but then I feel it. A dull shaking beneath out feet and a low rumbling that grows and grows. It feels like the ground below us has been set on vibrate; like some distant earthquake was only hitting us now. Just as quickly as it begins, it stops.

'What the _fuck-'_ In that moment, the door slams open, and I whirl around and stand in front of McCoy, my hackles raising. I am both horrified and thankful to find that it is _him_ who enters the room. He looks the same as before, except he is now dry. Hate raises in me, and I glare at him, knowing full well what a monster he was. I couldn't let him drag Leonard into this. This was _my_ fault.

'Two,' he greets, hands behind his back and a calm smile etched onto his ageing features. He's wearing a white coat now, and the scene is so eerily familiar from the _Chronos_. 'My dear, you're awake. And you, Doctor McCoy. I was told you woke some time ago'.

McCoy growls from behind me. 'How in the damn hell do you know my name?'

Edgar Bates waves a pale, bony hand. 'Hacking data files, being a once esteemed member of Starfleet, following the Enterprise very closely since you found our little treasure-' He peers at me, that horrible smile in place again, and I swallow and grimace at him. 'Things such as that. _Now-'_ He claps his hands together, and the sound makes me jump. 'Doctor. You are _just_ the man we have been looking for. If you would, please follow me'.

'No'. The word falls desperately from my mouth, a breathless, needy sound. ' _No_. You can't take him-' I step forward, eyes wide, heart pounding. They can't have him - not when he was the only person I had, not when _I_ had got him here. I _needed_ to get us out of here. 'You wanted _me._ Take _me-'_

Edgar Bates tuts and shakes his head, a fond look that makes me sick on his face. _You don't know me!_ I want to scream at him. 'Always so _difficult,_ Two. I will return your precious Doctor to you, rest assured. That is, of course, if you comply with our terms. My, I cannot _wait_ to see how you have grown in your absence. Memories are tricky things, are they not?' He squints, almost as if he is assessing me. 'My...you have not found your true worth yet. Perhaps we buried certain things a little _too_ deep. Now, Doctor, _come_ -'

 _'No-!'_

'June'. I look at him just over my shoulder, never taking Edgar Bates out of my vision. McCoy looks calm, far more calm that myself, and I feel once again like I am well and truly out of my depth. He doesn't say anything else, but a mere look from him tells me that he has this handled; that I should let him go with Bates. After all, I think, he had promised to bring McCoy back.

It is with that, with McCoy sliding out from beside me, away from my pathetic protective stance over him, that I am left alone in the room. The only comfort the Doctor leaves me with is a calm, lingering touch on my left arm, and a stern look that tells me to keep working, to keep looking, and to not do anything stupid in his absence.

* * *

'I don't know what you are. I don't what the hell they did to me, but I need something to happen. I need whatever the fuck those crazy ass scientists did to me to work _now'._ I glare at the door. It's been two hours. Two hours since McCoy had left, and I am _terrified._ What if he is dead, too? _They needed him. Remember that one of those medical kits was missing from the shuttle. They need a surgeon._ But what if when they're done with him, they throw him aside? What if they let him go, and I am left behind?

So, with these thoughts in mind, I start to talk to myself. To _it._

'C'mon...you make lights flicker. You made a door move. I'm pretty sure I made the Enterprise drop out of bloody warp. Just work now - when I _need you'._ My whispered words fill the silence, but to avail. Nothing happens. Nothing moves. The chunky door that I glare at does nothing but stare right back.

Except, until it doesn't.

My stomach twists when I see only Edgar Bates standing before me, that calm look on his face as he pushes the door open. It is so much more terrifying being alone with him. Even worse so when he steps into the room, allowing me to see the hallway outside. It was plain and rugged looking, much the same as the _Chronos_ and nothing like the _Enterprise_.

'Where is he?' I mutter, pressed against the furthest wall of the room. I cross my arms over my chest, cold and exposed.

'He's alive, my dear. Rest assured'. He tilts his head, curious and serene. 'My. Look at you. So strong; so brave. Had we not had to drug you so often, I would have adored to see you like this. But, really, you cannot have been truthful when you acted so clueless as to what I had referred to earlier, my dear. You _must_ have sensed a change in yourself - seen the things you can do-'

' _What_ ,' I seethe, taking one step forward. 'Did you _do_ to me?'

He stops, a satisfied look falling across his features. 'You _do_ know. Good. Yet...I feel as if you still do not know your true worth, my dear. You see, you were one of two. We only wished to bring forth life from another time, but we found _your_ universe. The same, and yet different. It picks randomly what it snatches forward. Sometimes, it was objects'. He shrugs. 'Useless things. _Animals_. The first time it brought a human, it was _him'._ Bates bows his head, an almost feigned look of sadness on his features. _Monsters can't cry._ ' _One'._

 _If there is a Two, there had to have been a One._

He sighs. 'A mere child, but it made us see what the portal could do. It attached a difference to you all. Makes you powerful. _Different._ A new breed of being, if we would just learn how to harness that power-'

'A _portal-?'_

'He died'. Edgar Bates sighs, bitter and disappointed. He steps further into the room. 'A child, not strong enough to withstand the tests we needed to understand what it was that had happened to him. But then...Oh...then came _you._ You were gravity, and I was Isaac Newton. A new breed of being. Beyond that of the Eugenics. You harness such _power-'_ He looks to me. 'And we will have more of you. Starfleet will understand why we did what we did when they see what you can do-'

I feel sick. All the doubts that I had, thrown out of the window. They had done something to me. And a boy...a little boy had died before me from what they did to him - to _us._ I sag my shoulders, my knees weak. ' _Where's_ Leonard McCoy?' I say, but my voice comes out high and hysterical.

He ignores me, to immersed in his speech. He takes another step forward, those blue eyes wild. He was _mad._ 'And you have come _back_ to me. Of course, we knew where you were. We took you on the _Chronos_ to hide you the best we could, yet sometimes I feel we should have stayed here'. He glanced around the room. 'We knew you would need to come to the ground, once Captain James Kirk found the signal from the escape pod. The explosives were a distraction, rest assured, my dear. We do not _want_ to harm-'

 _They're okay._

'I'm not _yours!'_ The scream comes from nowhere, and I surprise even myself. I just want to go _home._ 'My name is _June!_ I'm not your - your fucking invention or discovery. What you did to me...' I splutter and throw my arms in the air, before pointing my finger angrily his way. 'I am a _monster,_ and _you_ made me this way. I could have _killed my friends_ earlier, dropping them out of warp-'

'You have truly grown accustomed to this world, haven't you?' His eyes glisten. 'You did such a thing? Such _power._ Oh, Two. _Two._ But they do not know...no, no. You did well not telling them-' Then, something settles across his face, something bitter. 'A monster, you say? _She_ would call you that. She would say I had turned you into something terrible, that you were just a girl. She made the mistake of knowing you, and not what you could become-'

Her. The Woman. 'She let me go,' I spit, glaring at him. 'She _helped me._ You had no idea-'

'She is dead'. I snap my mouth shut, my mind shutting down. Dead? She was dead. Dead because she had helped me. Dead because she had begun to care. Dead because she believed in this monster. 'Before evacuating in her shuttle once she realised we knew, and the _Chronos_ began failing after you were taken, she was injured by one of my team. No one could survive such a thing. Now, Two. Come. It is time to see how you have grown in your absence'.

I don't move. I stare. 'What was her name?'

He peers at me, and answers. 'Maria Atwood'.

He begins to walk, and I stumble to follow him. I honestly don't know whether to cry, scream, or try to scratch at any exposed skin on the mad mans face. _Not until you find McCoy._ I flex my fingers, willing something, _anything_ to happen.

Nothing does.

We walk down corridors, flanked by two men in black who stand at the back. They don't look like Doctors, so I know them to be Security of some kind. The same as the man who had caught me on the _Chronos_. As we walk, my steps a few behind his as I watch the back of his head closely, something rumbles in the distance once again. 'What is that?'

Bates hums. 'Nothing for you to worry about now, my dear. You will aid us with it when you know your own power. The portal it is...unstable. The connection to your world is a strain on this universe - this planet'. He chuckles. 'Think of what we can do when you learn how to _connect_ with it'. I don't even pretend to understand what he means, too numb with the information I had been given. _I have to find McCoy and then get the fuck out of here. These people are mental. Like, seriously bloody unhinged._

I glance behind me and look at the men. They remain expressionless, decked out in black and carrying to large looking weapons. I snap forward the moment Edgar Bates stops, his hand shooting forward to enter a quick code to the door to our right. I stare, trying hard to see the numbers, but his bony hands shield them from me. With a blue eyed wink my way he steps back, ushering me forward.

'In there, my dear. I will be watching'.

Then, he pushes me forward.

The door slides shut the moment I step foot in the room. It's narrow and cold, smaller but similar to the room I had just been in. Two opaque, almost liquid looking walls lay either side of the room, and I am not so stupid that I cannot put two and two together. In my time, they had two ways mirrors. Here, they had...whatever the hell those walls were called.

A click sounds, and the wall to my left filters with light, as if the black dots were being sucked into the light. On the other side, basking in the bright, artificial lighting was Edgar Bates and one other. A man, younger and larger, with slicked back black hair, dark eyes and skin the colour of coffee. I heave in deep breaths, recognising his face from my messed up memories. Bates stares me down, mouth clamped shut and wild blue eyes trained solely on me. The other man leans in to say something to him, to which Bates smiles and nods.

I was an animals in a zoo.

Another click sounds and I turn to the right, my face falling when I see what lays beyond the second liquid looking window.

McCoy.

The two men who had flanked me from behind stand either side of him, whilst he is pressed to his knees. His shirt is matted with blood, as well as his hands, which lay flat on the floor before him as he crouches. There is a glare on his features as he stares me down, and the look tells me that is not pleased in the damn slightest. I stumble forward, looking at the blood, at _him._

He shakes his head. _Not my blood._

'Let him go,' I grind out, fists clenched at my side as I turn to stare at Bates. My boots squeak against the floor. 'Let him go _now'._

Rage. Terror. Anger. Loss. Why was this happening? Why did this happen to me, to McCoy, to that poor little boy that had taken before me? What right did they have - what right did they _believe_ they had to do this to us?

No one answers me. His blue eyes stare me down. After a short pause, he drawls, voice muffled through the glass, 'Set phasers to kill'.

It didn't take an idiot to figure out what that meant.

I whirl to face where Leonard kneels, his face drawn into a look of anger, as if he is trying to mask the terror. _Starfleet trains you for this. 'Stop it! Now!'_ I scream and scream, turning from Bates to McCoy, my red hair flying. I don't beg. I _tell him._ He is trying to get a reaction out of me...there was nothing I cared about last time they had me, but now I had _people._ People who cared about my well-being...nothing close to the connections of my universe, but good enough. First fire, not this.

'Five'.

A countdown.

'Four'.

I tug at my hair. 'Leonard - I'm _so_ sorry. I'm so, so _sorry_ '. I don't cry. I can't. I won't let the last face he sees that of tears. Instead, I stumble forward once more, my mind whirring with rage.

Leonard McCoy stares at me, the phaser pressed against his dark haired head, and his eyes tell me not to be sorry.

'Three'.

Rage. Terror. _Helplessness_. I feel it then; like a helpful knock at the back of my mind, an apology that it has not come sooner. _Learn how to use it. Recognise how it feels now, and you can use it again._ I breathe in deeply, and the world vibrates, my fists clench, my stomach swirls. I don't fight it, the feeling that feels like I am falling off a cliff. I _welcome it._ I feel like a bundle of nerves, stuck among the stillness of the room. I feel like electricity; like _lightening_ striking. I feel like a quiet storm.

'Two'.

I meet the gaze of the two men, and I feel the wetness seep from my left nostril at the same time McCoy eyes flicker to my face, his eyes widening. I don't look at him, though. No. Something tells me to look at the two men, to focus everything in my being on getting rid of them; of making them _fall down to the ground and never get back up again and stop touching Leonard McCoy, my friend-_

I no longer feel like _me_. My fists loosen; fingers dangling at my sides as I slow my breathing, and the world grows quiet. I am, perhaps, the most calm I have ever been in my life.

I dip my head, breath hard, and stare at them.

'One-'

It starts at their eyes, first. The blood bubbles slowly, just as both their breathing falters. The one holding the phaser to Leonard's head drops it with a limp wrist, and with a muffled clatter it falls to the ground. Next, it is their ears. Blood seeps round the side of their jaws, stark against their suddenly paling skin. They shake. They choke. They stumble back. The the blood spurts out slowly from their mouths as they choke, wildly gasping for breath and then, with a long choke, they twitch violently, blood spattering against the glass, and fall to the ground.

I clench my fists, raise my chin, and the glass _shatters_.

Leonard is on me in an instant, dragging me away without even a moment to pause and think of what is happening. The door slams open, half falling off of its hinges and I don't even know if it is _me_ doing it any more. _I just murdered two men. I just murdered two men. It was me. I did that. It was me._ I stumble, Leonard's harsh grasp on my forearm is near bruising, but at the sound of a door slamming open behind us, we hurtle on.

We run. We ignore the yells for back up from Bates. We ignore the sirens that begin to blare. I wrench my arm from McCoy at one point, whirling around as we stop at a crossroads of corridors. 'This way!' I yell over the noise, wiping frantically at my bloody noise.

'How in the _hell_ d'you know that?!' He yells right back, bloody and rumpled and wild looking. In his hand, he holds the fallen phaser.

'I don't fucking _know_!'

Apparently, this is a good enough answer.

And, thank fuck, the right one.

'That must be it,' the Doctor gasps, as we come up near a shaky looking ladder, topped by a hatch. He pushes forward, the physically strongest out of the two of us, and clambers up the ladder to begin twisting at the large wheel locking the door. Footsteps sound over the red, blaring alarms and I turn shakily, wildly scanning the long corridor we had just run up.

I wipe at my blood and think of the men's faces as they had died.

'June!' He lands beside me, hopping down from the ladder and wasting no time in shoving me roughly toward it. 'You first! Dammit, _go_!' He bares his teeth and turns to where I had been looking.

'How _gallant,'_ I gasp, not even bothering to insist that he go first, already half way up the ladder. I push hard at the now loose hatch, yelping when a harsh wind strikes it from my hand and whips it open, and the rain smacks violently against my face like bullets. The sky is now a violent, dark grey and what trees I can see are pushing hard against the wind. I mean, really? 'Oh, _fuck-'_

'Move!'

I do, scrambling wetly onto the grass and dragging him up with me when he comes. With the toe of his boot, he kicks the hatch shut, silencing the alarms and ducking onto the ground to begin winding the hatch lock back up. I gasp against the wet wind, breathless and suddenly drenched to the bone, before whirling round. _There._ I scramble through the heavy wind and rain, my own heartbeat silenced by the roaring of thunder, and begin to drag a forgotten, sodden log with as much strength as I can.

McCoy is there all of a sudden, and he says something that I can't decipher through the sound of the weather. All I know is, he seems to get the idea as he helps me haul the log over to the hatch, successfully hurling it on top of the lock and shoving it through the gaps in the handle.

'That should keep 'em for a while!' He yells. He looks about, face soaked and uniform now a dark blue from the rain. Lightening, beyond any lightening that I have ever seen, crashes above us, shaking the ground and becoming near deafening. ' _Damn_ Ion Storm!' The Doctor growls. 'Come on!'

We stumble and run, tripping over the debris of fallen trees and the sodden ground of the rain-forest as we do. _We did it. We made it. He's alive. You had to do what you did. You had to. You had to do...Did I?_ The wind nearly hurtles me over a good few times, and the same with McCoy, that in the end I scramble for the sleeve of his uniform through the rain, desperate to keep him as close as possible.

After what seems like hours of ducking and running and panting, his hand slips wetly into mine.

'There!'

He looks to where I point, his eyes rolling sky high as if asking for patience, before tugging me toward the small, dark cave at the bottom of the creak all the same. We crash through the river, the water making no difference to out soaked forms, before we duck into the dryness of the cave. I keep moving and moving, in the end dragging McCoy as far back as we can possibly go.

'June-'

'He can't find us,' I tell him, desperate for him to understand. He lets me walk five more meters before he tugs my hand back.

'June'. I stop, my breathing heavy and wet, and my red hair dripping around my face. The blood on McCoy's shirt is near washed off from the rain, and I hope to fuck that the blood from my nose has done the same. My head pounds with the reminder. 'June'. I look up at him, shaking and hollow, and see that he is shaking just as hard as me. 'We need to _stop,_ darlin'. Alright? We need to stop and breathe, and you need to tell me what in the hell just happened'.

It takes fifteen minutes for both of us to calm down, assess the narrow cave that goes back only ten more meters, and squint at each other in the dark. Pressed close, shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee, I do.

I finally voice my truth to someone.

I tell him _everything_.

* * *

 **FINALLY. You don't know how long I have wanted to get to this point. I just feel like June can't move forward with her relationships without discovering what it is Bates did to her. As I have said, this is just the beginning. This story will be so much more than a Star Trek fic inspired by Stranger Things. It's gonna move forward after this.**

 **Anyway, what do you guys think? Thank you so much for the reviews for the last chapter! They mean the world to me! It would make me _super happy_ to get some more. I'm thinking I won't post the next chapter until I get to 55 reviews. Soz not soz.**

 **Also I have tonsillitis from going way too hard on my birthday, hence why I'm being a loser and updating so much. Don't drink, kids.**

 **Thanks guys!**


	12. True Colours

_So don't be afraid to let them show_  
 _Your true colours_  
 _True colours are beautiful_

True Colours - Cyndi Lauper

* * *

The rain stopped an hour ago, but the crashing wind, thunder and lightening echoes dully through the cave. We've managed to push ourselves as far back as we can go, where the waning light from the planet just reaches us, and only a light harsh breeze brushes against our cheeks. McCoy and I sit opposite each other, now. The cave is so low that he can't stand, but just high enough that I can.

He hasn't spoken for the last five minutes.

I answered every questions he shot my way. I told him everything I knew - everything that I had suspected up until today when, finally, I had my own questions answered. I tell him I'm sorry I good ten times, but insist I was fucking terrified to even admit that there was something different with me. When I had answered his final question, he had nodded, rested his elbows on his knees, and stared at the ground.

'Does the Ion Storm mean we can't get in contact with the Enterprise?' I ask, pushing my drying hair back from my face. I was desperate to fill the silence. Plus, I was _freezing -_ God knows how cold this planet would get. For the first time, I wanted nothing more than to be in my plain, near suffocating room back on the _Enterprise_.

McCoy breathes in sharply through his nose, knocking himself from his thoughts. He looks up to me, his shoulders sagging. 'Yeah. Not that we _could_ anyway - damn bastards took my Comm. God knows how long this thing will last'. He shoots a look out to the dim light at the end of the cave, almost as if he was glaring at the storm itself. 'Temperatures on this planet are much the same as Earth - seasons and all'.

I nod, watching him carefully. With the quickly waning adrenaline, I was starting to get cold. The heavy wetness of my clothes felt heavy against my skin. 'So it shouldn't get _too_ cold?'

He shakes his head, still staring out of the cave. 'No. Doesn't mean it won't be damn freezing'.

'McCoy-'

He looks at me, then. 'Leonard,' he reminds me. His gaze lingers, before he clambers to his feet, uneasy and still coloured with whosoever blood stains his shirt. He brushes himself, before clearing his throat. 'Enterprise usually drops supplies around this time when crew is stranded...Need t' see if Jim and the others made it back okay. You're gonna stay here-'

'What? No!' I begin to scramble to my feet. _He was leaving me._ After what I had done to those men...he couldn't _bare_ to be near me. What would the others think, when they eventually found us? _Monster. Murderer._ 'I can _help_ you-'

He shakes his head, shadowed in the dim cave light and looking far more rugged than usual. 'Jim'll be in Starfleet's bad books far more than he already is if you get hurt, darlin'. Plus...you're not exactly well versed in alien territories'. I swallow, knowing that he was right, but hating it. 'I'll be back - I won't stray too far. You gotta stay here, alright?'

I glower at him. 'I really wish everyone would stop treating me like a damn damsel in distress'.

For the first time since I had told him my truth, something like a smile tugs at the face of the tired looking Doctor. Pushing his mess of brunette hair back, he replies, 'Trust me, sweetheart. Not one part of me things of you as a damsel. Not after what you just did'. He must have seen something flicker across my face, because he steps forward, rough hand landing on my wet shoulder. With hazel eyes peering to my own, McCoy nods at me. 'Ya did what you had to do. I can vouch for that. You...Hell, seems to me like you understand all of this far less than I do, but you...you did what you _had to do'._

He leaves with one last look my way, as I tuck myself into the corner of the cold and dark cave and try to squash the fear of being left out. The wind howls in his wake, and I hope to fuck that he isn't caught by whatever angry natives Uhura had been talking about earlier. _He's done stuff like this before. You're the one out of your depth, not him. You've read up on the mad shit the Enterprise has endured. This is **nothing**. _

I keep telling myself that as I tug my over-shirt off, leaving me in my white undershirt and t-shirt bra. Don't get me wrong - it was fucking _freezing,_ but getting most of the moisture out of my Starfleet issued black shirt would be far more beneficial than sitting in it. So, I wring the water out onto the uneven, rocky floor of the cave, watching as it travels like oil along the rivets in the floor. With that done, I lay it flat on the ground, flinching when a particularly low thumb of thunder and a flash of lightening lights up the cave.

 _Get this done. One thing at a time._

Next come my boots. I discard them to the side, yanking off my socks and flexing my pruning toes against the cold. They are laid out beside the dark shirt, too. I kneel before my clothes, my fists clenched against my thighs and my jaw shaking.

When I blink, I see the faces of those _awful_ men; their eyes red and their Adam's Apples jumping as they choked on their own blood.

Something in me had known exactly how to use _it_ \- whatever _it_ was. In that moment, I hadn't shied away from it, or ignored my turmoil of emotions. The power I felt nagging at the back of my mind became an extension of myself - and, like Bates had wanted me so desperately to do, I had wielded it. Turns out, it had benefited me far more than him.

The cave grows darker, until only a dim, dark blue seems to set the cave alight. It feels like hours that I sit there, flexing my fingers to keep them warm and huddling my back against the sharp ridges of the cave walls. If I ever returned to the Enterprise, Jommin would sure as shit be having an earful from me.

I am yanking my fingers through my knotted curls when he comes back, a blundering mess of a man who splutters against the wind and practically dives to the sanctuary of the cave. I yell and jump to my feet, terrified that Bates had found me (I feel it nagging at the back of my mind, a protective tug that I move away from when I see who it is), but sag when I see the grumpy and rumpled Leonard McCoy.

The first thing I note is the minuscule torch in his right hand, which seems to blare an odd amount of light for its size. Honestly, why do they feel the need to shrink everything down in this future? I am about to ask him where he had found that, but then my eyes catch the cylinder, solid bag hanging from his left shoulder, the dark Starfleet insignia telling me all I need to know.

'A care package,' I mumble. 'Thank _fucking God'._ He drops the package to the floor, eyeing me up and down with a curious look. 'I was wet,' I defend, dropping to my knees to drag the case toward me. The Doctor scoffs. 'What did you find?'

He kneels the other side of the case and slots the torch against the wall, illuminating both of our faces with heavy shadows. 'Damn weather held me back - it's why I took so long'. He glances up at me, an apology in his gaze, but I shake my head. 'I managed to find the site where we found the pod. Ground was shaken - looks like the bombs were more a distraction than with the intent to harm. No sign of injury'. I see the relief in his own face, and feel guilty for not even considering how worried he must be. These were his _close friends._ 'Found this thing locked into the soil. Neat little note tellin' us to get in contact as soon as we can, and that all the landing party minus us made it back to the ship before the Ion Storm hit-'

'Oh, _thank you Jesus_ ,' I sigh, holding a hand to my chest. 'They're all okay?' He nods. 'But _how_ are we supposed to get into contact with the _Enterprise_?'

He shows me. Inside the pack were dried biscuits and fruits, a water purifying bottle (filled), a med-kit, some fancy looking lighter, neatly folded non-Starfleet uniforms ('In case we run into any unfriendly sorts who ain't exactly fond of the Federation,' Leonard explains), two blankets and, thank God, a Communicator. I grin when I see it, but it wavers somewhat when I put two and two together. 'They think we're going to be here overnight?'

Leonard shrugs. 'Lord knows how long these damn things can last. C'mon - we need to get out of these clothes and get a fire started before we freeze to death'.

* * *

We change with our backs to each other and my cheeks hot from the close proximity of the older, far more intimidating man than anyone else I had ever met. The clothes sent to us were a matching pair of dark pants and shirt, thicker than the ones I had worn before, with thick white socks that slip onto my feet nicely. When I turn to McCoy, I all but swallow my tongue at the sight of him in the dark clothing.

And then I remember the dire situation, and instead mutter something about finding firewood.

We do, as it turns out, but it is damp and not worth even attempting to light. McCoy instead insists that we leave it to dry at the back of the cave with us, until it is worth lighting. I agree, cold and stiff and wishing more than anything else for the warmth of my bed and the safety of the ship we had left behind.

McCoy tries the Comm a few more times, swearing when nothing answers back. He informs me of the interference that can be caused by these Storms and I frown in understanding. 'Fucking typical,' I mutter, tucking myself under the blanket that has a crinkly material beneath the softness. Probably to keep us warm against the cold. Two discarded packets of dried fruit sit between us.

McCoy grunts in agreement, still standing in front of me, illuminated by the harsh light of the torch that is propped up between us by the drying firewood.

'McCoy...' I mumble, knees tucked to my chest and nose cold and probably red. He turns to me, his demure that of someone who was in work mode, desperate to get us out of here. He wad distracted, focused. 'I just...I'm really-'

Even in the sparse light we have, I manage to catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes sky high. 'Dammit, woman. If you're about to say sorry to me one more time, I'm going to kick you out into that damn storm, you hear me?'

I swallow my words. 'Um, this is _my_ cave. I'll be kicking _you_ out'.

There's a short pause. 'And where in the hell did you get _that_ idea?' he asks, exasperation clear in his tone.

I sniff, shuffle further into the blanket, and reply, 'Finders keepers'. Shooting a smile up at him to show him I'm joking, I groan into the low rumbling of the sky above. 'Will you sit down? We need rest, you said so yourself. Safe to say today probably took it out of us'. At the mention of past events, I bite my lip and throw him the side eye as he does as told, and slides down opposite me. 'Are you sure you, uh, are you sure you're okay with everything that happened?' Even to my ears, the question sounds fucking stupid.

His eyes glint across the light, expression leaking bemusement. 'I can sure as hell tell you that I am _not_ okay with _anything_ that happened today, June'. I scoff at that, pleased to see that someone else was trying to make light of the situation, however inappropriate the humour. He shifts, and I kick the blanket that is his across to him, to which he grunts in thanks, dragging it onto his lap. 'Are _you_ okay?' he inquires, sliding the Comm into the pocket of his fresh trousers. Our clothes lay discarded at the back of the cave, sopping.

I tilt my head back and forth, a wry smile forming. The words feel rehearsed when I say them. 'I _had_ to do it, _right_? Couldn't exactly let them bloody kill you. Feel like that would have been a _little_ harsh'.

'Only slightly'.

A small smile tugs at my face, tired but welcome. '...But _then_ no one would stab me with vaccines every time I pissed them off. I mean, Jim might have even _thanked_ me-' I laugh at the look he throws me, the sound echoing around us. Sobering, I wipe the smile from my face with a cold hand. 'Still...It's not...It's not the easiest thing to come to terms with; that I can do _that_ to people'. _Monster._

'I've seen people do far worse with what science has given them, darlin'. _Trust_ me on that'.

The words, somehow, _do_ give me some form of comfort. 'The _blood_ ,' I yelp, remembering the state he had been in. 'Did they have you preform surgery on someone, like we guessed?'

He nods. 'A man. No use, apparently. His blood loss was far too much. He died'.

'I'm sorry,' I mumble, clenching my hands between my knees to gain some warmth. 'It can't be easy losing a patient, no matter _who_ they are'. Silence lapses, but all I think is _that's one less person to worry about._ I wonder, my stomach turning, when I started to think like that. Lightening flashes again, and McCoy and I both look toward the cave entrance with tired eyes and drawn faces. The sky was dark now, and the only light was from the torch.

I think of the _Enterprise_ , high above us, and swallow the guilt in my throat. _They're all alive._

'You're from Georgia?' I ask, desperate to keep my mind from wondering to the darkest of places, where men with blood in their eyes stare back at me. 'Why did you join Starfleet?'

The Doctor grunts, and I'm not sure if its a laugh or a sigh. 'Small talk? Really, Adams?'

'Humour me, asshole. I'm cold and tired and stranded with a grumpy ass Doctor on an alien planet'.

This time, I _know_ it's a laugh. His rugged skin stretches up into a smile, his cheeks rounding as he tucks himself further against the blanket, his eyes downcast to the floor. After a moments pause, he leans back and meets my expectant gaze, a _what the hell?_ look in his eyes. 'Georgia. Born and raised. Took after my Pa and became a surgeon. Wife took everythin' I had in the damn divorce, so I figured Starfleet would be the best way for me to go'. He shrugs, a lingering darkness that tells me the tale still bugs him. 'Still figurin' out of I was right or wrong'.

I nod at the information, understanding this man just a little more. 'That's...' _Nice?_ '...Well, that's a fucking terrible reason to join. I'm sorry about...that. Still, I would be _royally_ fucked right now if you hadn't'.

Another laugh, low and barely there. 'What about you, huh? Bio-Engineerin'?'

I nod. 'My cousin, she uh...well, we're not really _close._ She has a prosthetic leg. Lost it to some insane infection that came out of nowhere. I was going to go the Mechanics route, but some other girl on my course was a fucking...well, _annoyingly_ skilled at that. I looked into Biomedical Engineering then...thought of my cousin, spoke to her about how she wished there was something that could make her brain think this leg, that didn't feel like part of her, was real'. I shrug, mimicking McCoy's stance and leaning my head against the damp cave wall. 'Got me thinking about other people, I guess. Went out on a limb and took it for my Masters, and ended up being pretty alright at it'.

He takes in the information, his hands wringing slowly in front of him above the blanket. 'You know, they have somethin' for that now. Prosthetic limbs and such, it's come in leaps and bounds-'

I snort. 'I know, Doc, don't worry. My field is pretty out of my depth here - useless, even. Looking around Engineering with Scotty...I guess it's the first time I got excited about Mechanical Engineering for a while'.

Silence stretches again, and I pray to God that the Doctor will fill it. I don't want to come across like I'm nagging him with useless questions to make time go faster, until I finally feel as if I can sleep. Although...I had all but told him that time in his Office that he was easy to talk to and, however, grumpily, he had welcomed my incessant chatter.

'So...I take it you like that classical music that Jim used to play in our dorm and deafen me with?'

I frown, truly bemused by the question. Blinking across the harsh light of the small torch to McCoy's blank face, I try very hard not to look offended. 'What like...like fucking _Beethoven_? Is _that_ the kind of vibe that I'm giving off?' I also can't imagine James Kirk bopping his head to a fast paced remix of _Für Elise._

'What? _No_ ,' McCoy splutters, drawing his brow together and looking at me as if I am the thickest being on this terrible planet. 'Lord have Mercy...I mean...Jesus. Music of _your_ time, you damn moron-'

'Don't call me a _moron_!' I crack up, holding my hand to my mouth to silence the sound. Apparently, shock, horror, sleep deprivation and cold were making me rather loopy. 'Classical means something _very_ different to me, Doctor! And, yeah, I like music of my time. I kind of always liked 80's music, courtesy of my mum. _Cure, Blondie, ABBA._ _19_ 80's, that is. Not the _18_ 80's'.

'You're damn hilarious'.

'I'm aware, thank you'.

After a pause, he asks, 'ABBA?'

With a horrified expression, I reply, 'When we get back to the Enterprise, I am going to gift your ears with the most beautiful sounds'.

' _Jesus_ '.

I snort, to which the Doctor bows his head and lets out a huff of laughter of his own. Silence lapses once again then, and it seems we're both listening to the sound of the thunder rumbling, and the lightening locked in the clouds lighting up the sky. It's hard to believe I'm not on Earth, right now. The feeling is something odd, and I'm almost annoyed that it had been so brutally ruined. I think of Bates and where he is, and if that log had managed to keep him locked away.

I am woken what feels like seconds later, but the crick in my neck tells me it must have been well over an hour. I realise, with a start and one eye half open, that my own shivering had woken me. 'Fucking hell...' I mutter, casting a look to the sleeping Doctor opposing me. His head had fallen back onto the wall, and his mouth was slightly agape.

It was _freezing._ The cold seemed to have multiplied with my tiredness and, in a fit of indecisiveness, I look over to McCoy with cold cheeks and a dry mouth. 'Bugger it,' I mutter, after noting after a while of squinting through the dark (the Doctor had, apparently, turned off the flashlight), that McCoy's shoulders were shaking from the cold, too.

I don't have time to feel embarrassed, or stupid. This is about survival, and right now the Doctor was looking mighty appealing - and not in the usual way.

I crawl over to him, knees bumping against the uneven ground, and whisper as lowly as I can to get his attention, but not startle him. The phaser lay in his blanket, I knew, and I wasn't keen on having that thing pointing at me because I'd startled him. I shiver once more, poke at his boot, and whisper, 'Doc. _Leonard._ I'm freezing my arse off here - please wake up'.

He does, eyes catching the light of the lightening that flashes outside as he tilts his head upright, his hair far more rumpled than usual. He blinks at me for a mere moment, before nodding in a way that tells me he was still half asleep and as numb with cold as I was. I follow his movements as he pulls away from the wall, dragging the blanket with him, and beckons me forward without a word.

'Wood still wet?' He asks, voice raspy. I nod, still on my hands and knees with my blanket draped over my like a damn hood. I must, in all honesty, look mighty ridiculous. He grumbles something, before kicking his legs out and dragging his blanket to the ground with him, before muttering, 'Get the hell down here, then. We're not gonna be much use to the Enterprise if we've frozen to death'.

I waste no time in ducking to the cold ground with him, desperate for some aspect of body warmth. It seems he has the same idea. This is nothing but desperation of basic human survival; to move to the thing that is the warmest. We face each other, both our cold faces darkened by the lack of light, and move so close that our knees are touching. I breath heavily, hands cupped near my face and let out a violent shudder.

'Thought you'd be used to the cold,' he mutters, clasping my wrists and dragging them to his warm chest. I slip close, doing my best to give him any warmth that I have to offer.

Teeth chattering, I reply, 'I grew up in England, Leonard. Not the North fucking Pole'.

And, with that, we fall into fitful sleeps, wrapped tightly to each other, barely knowing each other, but trusting each other all the same.

* * *

 _Blood. Blood. Blood. They choke. They cry. Did they have families? Did they have parents? How could I look at the faces of my family again, knowing that I had murdered? They stare at me, blood soaked cheeks and teeth coated red, and tell me that I am a Monster. That I am his. That I stopped being June Adams the moment I set foot in this future._

 _Two. You're Two._

* * *

I gasp awake, terrified for a moment that the wetness I feel on my face is blood (no, no, what if I did something in my sleep?), but am both mortified and relieved to find that the wetness has a taste, and that taste is salt. I was _crying._ It was still dark, still cold, still quiet, still _thundering._

And I was still a monster.

Jesus, I wanted my _mum._

The body next to mine lurches, grumbling and grunting and swearing into consciousness. The legs are locked with mine, heat seeping between us, and I bury my face in my hands, half hoping that he will think I'm still asleep. Instead, the chest that is so close to my own that I can feel the warmth shifts, and rough fingers come to linger against my wet fingers, where unbidden tears seep.

'June...c'mon-'

'I'm _fine,'_ I mumble wetly. _Red eyes. Red teeth. Red insides._. 'We need to sleep, I'm-'

'If you say you're sorry _one more damn time_ '. He does something that I don't expect, then, and tugs my hands roughly away from my face, leaving the dampness displayed to the dark cold. I am almost thankful. At least he can't see how weak I look. Hazel eyes glint in the dark, and I can only just see the outline of his form lying next to me, both our bodies facing each other. 'You _had to do it._ June. You're not gonna go blamin' your damn self. I won't let you, ya hear me?'

'You've been through far worse,' I babble, sleep clouding me and the nightmare still lingering. 'All of you on the Enterprise, I-'

'And you don't think we mourned for the shit we had to do?' He tugs my hands to him, sighs, and mutters, 'Jesus. C'mere'. He moves closer, if possible, and discards my hands to wrap an arm around my back and tug me to him, until my forehead is pressed tightly to his chest. I realise, for the first time, that I have not been held so intimately in a very, very long time. The thought has me near blubbering again. 'Sleep. Doctors orders'.

I nod, face crumpled and chest heavy. 'I won't be _Two_ ,' I tell him. 'I won't be _that'._

'I know, kid'.

Shaking the shuddering breaths from my body and wishing I could repay the Doctor somehow, I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap my own arm around his broader waist, hoping in some way that the shared heat would be thanks enough.

The nightmares, for the rest of the night, stay far away.

* * *

 **I've been wanting to get to those point, where the two characters can come to understand each other and spend time together in a situation that calls for their true selves. I hope it didn't disappoint. I only say this because I received a review that stated they felt the revealing of June's powers was kind of anti-climactic, and that they didn't feel as if the June/Bones romance was really anything to shout about. I get this! I am so, so open to feedback. I just want you guys to know what I replied to this person, just in case anyone else feels this way!**

 _ **Hi! I try to respond to reviews such as this (and I will take your views into account, because I get where they're coming from!). Honestly, I almost wanted it to be anti-climactic. I wanted June's first time experiencing her power like that to be something positive - her saving someone she cared about. I want her to stop viewing it as something so inherently negative. I also wanted it to be forced out of her - because it shows just how unfair Bates is to her, and how she needs to grow from these experiences. Also, I try to keep any writing I make as realistic as I can - well, within the confines of a Star Trek fanfiction inspired by Stranger Things, haha. Concerning the romance of Bones and June - well, it's not really a romance yet. I'm all about slow burners and the characters knowing each other before any kind of love can come into the mix. For June, she has far more worrying things than a man she's attracted to. I want the romance to be an accidental, but overall good thing.**_

 _ **I hope you understand where I am coming from, and I understand where you're coming from. Thanks so much for the feedback and taking the time to review, have a good day/night! x**_

 **I hope people get this now! Thank you so, so much to this person and others who have taken the time to review, I appreciate it so, so much!**


	13. Dancing Queen

_You're a teaser, you turn 'em on_  
 _Leave 'em burning and then you're gone_  
 _Looking out for another_  
 _Anyone will do_  
 _You're in the mood for a dance_  
 _And when you get the chance_

Dancing Queen - ABBA

* * *

'What about the Village that Lieutenant Uhura was talking about?'

McCoy, who kneels at the foot of the creak just beyond our cave, shakes his head as he fills up the water bottle we were given. The storm had calmed on the surface of the planet overnight, but it seems the Ion Storm was trapped in the clouds, a ceiling of horror that was keeping us trapped on Clion 2BA. 'Best to stay away from any of the natives. Friendly as they are, we can't risk their safety because they've been helpin' Starfleet out-'

'Because of the...the _bad_ tribes, right?' I sit at the entrance to the cave, my arms wrapped around my knees and my bare feet dipped into the cool water of the creak. 'But if this is a Federation planet-'

McCoy stands with a huff and screws the cap back onto the metallic bottle. Casting a grumpy look about the trees and the rough ground, he turns to me with a distracted look. 'Every planet has their own issues - doesn't matter if the majority elected to be part of the Federation, darlin'. Y'know, I'm not exactly elated about drinkin' your damn _foot water'._ He looks pointedly to my pale, wiggling toes that are immersed in the cold water.

I grin in return.

We had both awoken to sore backs and cold noses, lighting the now dry wood without even a word shared between us. The fire, thank God, made _all_ the difference. It was something to raise our spirits a little, after peeking into the outside and seeing the Storm still shaking the dark grey sky above us. A sick feeling was starting to pool in my stomach at the thought of being trapped on a planet with Edgar Bates for just a little longer.

 _You showed him. He won't be coming for you so soon. He underestimated you._

McCoy, thankfully, had not mentioned my embarrassing blubbering the night before, and for that I was grateful. He was a Doctor, I guess, and was used to people breaking down, no matter how much he probably hated it. The Doctor had gone straight into ensuring the area was safe, gathering more water, and forcing me to eat two packs of the dried fruit. Somehow, the fruit seems to fill me up the same as a sandwich would. Probably some weird, futuristic alien thing.

As McCoy waits a moment to let the water clean itself in the bottle, I duck my chin to rest between my knees and scold myself for even considering how fucking _bored_ I was. It made sense, I knew, that we should stay in the safe shelter that we had found and away from the tribes, to stop any conflict the appearance of McCoy, a Starfleet Officer, might cause. Still, sitting pretty in some gross cave in the middle of a bug infested rain-forest was, quite possibly, one of the most odd things I had ever done.

'Damn storm ain't easin' up any time soon,' The Doctor grumbles, looking up at the rolling clouds that flash with lightening that does not strike the surface of the planet. Despite the scene, the air around us seemed oddly still. I grumble in reply, tired and aching and wishing more than anything for the skies to clear and for McCoy's Comm to beep with a message from the _Enterprise_.

I sigh, looking around the area we occupied. Trees. Rocks. River. More trees. I glance about, fingers itching and mind wandering to the events of yesterday. McCoy's words had somewhat calmed me, reassuring me that I had, in fact, saved his life. Had I not done what I did to those men, McCoy would be dead and I would still be in the underground bunker. That did not stop the flashes of bloody eyes and guilt welling inside of me, and the knowledge of what I was capable of making my stomach roll.

An idea comes to be then. With cold fingertips, I check that McCoy is distracted before raising my hand slightly and wiggling my fingers toward a scattering of pebbles at the base of the cave, just a foot away from me. I wait, knowing what I wanted to do and what I wanted to _see..._ If I could control it, that would make everything different-

The pebbles, to my bafflement, shake like an earthquake was about to hit.

I snatch my hand back and shoot to my feet, startling McCoy so much that his left foot drops into the shallow water. He glares at me, to which I swallow a smile and, for the first time in hours, feel a slight swell of pride at myself. _Control it._ 'Sorry,' I mumble, tugging the long sleeves of the dark shirt over my hands as I wander over to the Doctor. He hands me the bottle, brow cocked, and I take it. 'Try the Comm again?' I ask, before taking small sips of the water.

McCoy shrugs, tugging the Comm from his pocket. 'May as well,' he huffs, before flipping it open and speaking into the device. 'McCoy to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise. Both myself and June Adams are safe. We got the care package and have found shelter. Come in Enterprise'.

I sigh when nothing happens, and McCoy opens his mouth to speak into the Comm again. I cut across him. 'Y'know, if you guys can hear us, I would really appreciate you sending down something other than fruit and bloody crackers. And maybe another water bottle. There are _two_ of us'. McCoy throws me a dry look, to which I smile slyly in reply. 'And maybe a new personality for your good Doctor - _hey_!' I snort, when the Doctor turns solidly away from me, his broad back now smack bang in my face.

'Coordinates are two miles West of the _Chronos_ escape pod. Same as damn yesterday. McCoy over and out'. With that, he flips the Comm shut and turns back to me, blank faced and messy haired. Lack of sleep, apparently, was not good the CMO. 'You're hilarious'.

'You keep telling me this, Doctor. I _know_ '.

He rolls his eyes, a habit of his, and begins to march toward the cave. 'You're becomin' increasingly hard to deal with without a _pint_ of black coffee-'

I groan at that, following him into the warmer shelter. The fire crackles at the end of the cave. 'Oh, _don't_. I would kill for a black coffee right now. That, and a _Dominos_ pizza. And a _bath_. God, I miss baths. Does it not annoy you that the Enterprise has those horrible sonic shower things? It's _extremely_ invasive and not relaxing _at all'._

He peers at me, setting the bottle and his phaser onto the ground as he slides down onto the floor. ' _That_ we can agree on, June'.

I smile wryly. 'Miracles do happen'. I sigh as another rumble of low thunder crashes above us. 'There's really nothing we can do other than _sit_ here?' The Doctor shakes his head with an equally pissed off expression. Leonard McCoy did not seem like the kind of man who liked sitting around and waiting to be rescued. Then again, _no one_ on the Enterprise did. I'd read up on the ship, and it seemed it landed itself in more trouble than anything else. Seemed James Kirk Captained a crew that was as adventurous, reckless and completely genius-like as he was. 'Figures'.

The fire crackles between us to the left, giving off the heat we so desperately needed. If I looked too close at it, the heat would make my eyes water. 'I went camping once,' I muse, squinting at the fire. 'I mean, I camped at music festivals, but that doesn't really count. I went with my friends with I was eighteen to some forest in Suffolk. It was fucking terrible. Cold and wet and creepy as hell'.

McCoy snorts. I look to him, and see his rugged features illuminated by the jumping shadows of the firelight. 'I'm from Georgia, darlin'. The outdoors was a major part o' the entertainment in my house. My pa made me learn how to camp when I was a kid. Hated every damn second of it, of course. He was a Doctor, too, and saw his fair share of injuries from people not knowin' how to take care of themselves in the outdoors'. He pauses. 'My daughter...she hates camping, too. I took her once; screamed to the high damn heavens when a grass snake made it into the tent'.

I process the information, seeing the only flicker of sadness on his face at the mention of his daughter. _Wife took everything in the divorce,_ I think. _Even the kid._ 'How old is she?'

He doesn't pause before answering. 'Six. _Joanna'._

I smile, watching the way his hazel eyes flicker, as if lost in a memory, and his lips purse for just a moment. The expression is gone as quickly as it came. 'That's a really pretty name'.

He hums in reply, before looking at me. Perhaps its the pity in my gaze, or perhaps he thinks that I know whats it's like to miss family so damn much, but he offers me more information into his life, this grumpy and sour Doctor. 'She was one when we divorced. My ex-wife, Jocelyn, let's me see her whenever I want. Surprisin', considerin' what a damn she-devil she is'.

I blink, listening to what I can learn about this man. It seemed, in the last few days, McCoy had become something other than some one dimension, bitter character on board of the Enterprise. If anything, I _appreciated_ how blunt he was, something of which I had told him. 'That's fucking generous'.

He meets my gaze, surprise evident for speaking so frankly, before he scoffs and sighs with a slow nod. 'That it is'.

It seems to come with a slow growl, what comes next. For a moment, I thought the shaking underneath my palms, as I sat on the floor, was the thunder rumbling from the sky above. It takes only a second for me to realise my fault - this was coming from the ground, not the sky. Apparently, the same as McCoy. I trip to my feet with a surprised yelp, ungraceful as ever, and follow him as he orders us out of the cave _now._

It could _crumble_.

' _Another_ bloody quake?' I complain, as we duck from the cave and ground ourselves the best we can on the low rumble beneath our feet. It was nothing dramatic, but surprising all the same for someone who had led a pretty sheltered life and never felt such a thing before. Only time that I had, was...

The rumbling begins to fade. The hum of insects from the forest blares. Birds scatter beneath the low, rolling clouds were lightening flashes. 'Feels mighty like the one we felt in that damn bunker,' the Doctor growls, hand hovering behind me.

As the quake fades, leaving only the sound of distressed animals and insects in its wake, I turn to McCoy with wide eyes and a raised finger. He looks away from the treeline to me, blinking at my stumped expression, before snapping, 'Out with it, woman. Christ'.

I shake my head, trying desperately to put two and two together. 'You guys told me that what's happened to me...it's not exactly _shocking._ _Why_?'

McCoy snaps his mouth shut, eyebrow cocking so aggressively I'm quite sure it must have a mind of its own. 'Dammit! Why is that important _now!'_ I throw him a stern look, to which he rolls his eyes and looks around us once again, checking that no one had slipped into the clearing whilst we had been distracted. Huffing at me, he drags me back into the cave, our feet sloshing into the brook. 'You read up on how Jim became Captain of the _Enterprise_ , right?'

We stand in the mouth of the cave, illuminated by the weak daylight. I nod, my theory spinning in the back of my mind. 'Some bat-shit Romulan named Aero or something, right? Tried to kill everyone, and Captain Hero saved the day-'

McCoy has the decency to collect himself after a short scoff. 'Well, long story short, darlin', that Romulan and his whole ship were damn time travellers from the _future_. The Spock of their time did somethin' mighty damn bad, so they came back and tried to kill _our_ Spock. Thing is, with time travel-'

I blink. 'Shit. He made a new timeline-'

McCoy nods, looking pretty damn miffed out about the whole thing. 'And the Spock of his timeline...well, he came along, too-'

' _What?'_ I baulk. 'He's in this...this _universe?_ And he couldn't get _back?'_ McCoy shakes his head, watching me, almost worried I would be concerned with this information. 'Jesus, don't look at me like that'. I grimace to him. 'But if...if there was _no way_ for anyone to find a way to get that Spock back to his time - we are also going to address the fact that you guys didn't tell me about that, because, what the fuck? - and he's _important_ and they _still_ couldn't find a way...Imagine if there was a way, and it was open all the time...wouldn't that be pretty _powerful_?' _The portal._ 'Powerful enough to cause earthquakes?'

Hazel eyes narrow. '...You got proof to back this up?'

I swallow my pride, _visibly,_ and peer with a cringe to the man who I had blubbered all over the night before. 'Bates _may_ have told me'. Leonard opens his mouth to snap something at me, judging from the winkling of the corner of his eyes and the tightening of his jaw, but jut a finger solidly against his chest to shut him up. 'I didn't know what he meant at the time! I was fucking distracted worrying where they had dragged you off to!'

He deflates like a damn balloon, but the edge in his eyes doesn't fade. 'That's...fair'. He frowns, a familiar attribute to his features. 'I've seen firsthand what reckless science and time damn... _warpin_ ' can do to a planet'. He glances around, before looking hard out of the mouth of the save where we stand. The large hulking alien trees sway in the wind, and the sky above rumbles with a mess of lightening and thunder that we cannot see. I look at the Doctor, waiting for his words. 'We need to get back to the _Enterprise_ '.

For the first time, I see true worry on the Doctors face.

It makes my stomach roll with nerves; nerves that had been sitting silently at the back of my mind until now. _We need to close the portal. But how?_ There was not fucking way Leonard or I could do that alone. Not without the others. Even then...they would make me stay on the _Enterprise_. I had no memory of what had brought me to this world, but it had _changed_ me.

Surely there was _something_ I could do to help.

'But we can't?' My voice is smaller; smaller than I ever cared for it to be. I don't know why I cared so much, to be honest. The Doctor had seen me at my utter worst the night before, no matter how much we didn't mention it.

He looks back to me and shakes his head. 'Not until this damn storm clears'. The guilt comes crashing down again. McCoy's face softens somewhat. 'Not your fault,' he reminds me, the perfect mixture of brash and soft.

I only hum halfheartedly in agreement and turn away from him, starting for the fire that burnt at the end of the cave, where our makeshift camp lay. The blankets had been piled as close to the burning wood as they could to keep them warm, and McCoy's Starfleet uniform and my dark clothes were folded in the corner, courtesy of me. When anxious, I apparently cleaned.

'You had anymore of that... _stuff_?' I look up from gathering the water bottle off of the floor, momentarily floored by what on _Earth_ he could be talking about. McCoy scoops the food back up, gaze leaving mine as he crouches to the ground and rifles through the packets food, keeping track of what we had. He was, anyone could see, tense.

' _Oh._ You mean my...' I wiggle my fingers, to which he blinks pointedly at, before flashing his hazel eyes back to mine. I think of the pebble that I had moved...that could have been anything. 'No. Nothing. Do you think the others...do you think they'll _understand -_ like you have?' I omit thanking him, or throwing him a look that encompasses just how much him understanding means to me. Thankfully, Leonard McCoy seemed to be as emotionally simple as I was.

'Yes,' he answers, without a moments pause. 'Did you eat the damn blueberries?' I freeze under his gaze, a guilty expression on my face. 'Those are my damn favourite, thief...' He grumbles, delving back into the care package.

Men, I decide then and there, are fucking infants.

Ten minutes later, we are pushed into our usual positions on opposing sides of the cave, facing each other as McCoy munches on a packet of dried biscuit and fruit. He's rolling his eyes sky high at me, a common theme.

'Come _on_ ,' I stress. ' _Dancing Queen? Mama Mia? Lay All Your Love On Me_?' I tut when he, once again, shakes his head with a dull look my way. 'I refuse to believe _ABBA_ is not considered a classic in the future. That's _horrendous'._

He discards of the crumples packet and dangles his twists over his bent knees. The Doctor, with another huff, says, 'Jim was very intent upon showing me _rock_ and _punk_ and whatever damn else he listened to - pretentious little sh-'

I scoff. ' _ABBA_ is not rock. _ABBA_ is 70's pop and disco. No, I _refuse_ to believe you haven't heard _Dancing Queen._ Sing it with me now - _Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen-!'_

'Dammit. Stop that-'

' _Ooooh, yeah-!'_

'You're doing a piss poor job of sellin' it to me, darlin',' the Doctor says, cutting off my broken, quiet singing. I grin, catching the smile that he suppresses as he bows his head and shakes it.

I chuckle. ' _No one_ can dislike _ABBA_. I'm going to _make_ you listen to it, Leonard,' I tell him, back against the bumpy wall and toes warm from the fire.

Hazel eyes catch mine, and the smile he throws me seems softer in the jumping firelight. It is then, I suppose, how comfortable we had been forced to be in each others presence. 'I'll hold you to that, sweetheart'.

* * *

When I sleep that night, my back facing McCoy's, his heat seemingly stronger than that of the fire, I dream of darkness. An intense, slippery kind of darkness, as if it wasn't a room I was in, but a _void._ When I walk, I realise that I am solid, and that the ground beneath my feet is wet and black and has no texture at all. The more I blink, I realise, the more real I feel in this odd place.

Voices seem to echo into the darkness, coming closer and closer like a moving train. I spin around, but there is only darkness and wetness and nothing but the void-

Until there isn't.

Blue and yellow. Yellow and blue. I blink at the scene as it comes toward me, except there is no scene at all. I cannot see the _Enterprise_ , but I can see the harsh lights that it cascades across Mister Spock and Captain Kirk. They stand before me, heads dipped to one another as they talk, their words echoing around me. I start forward, wanting to alert them...

 _They don't see me._

'-This will be their second damn night down there, Spock. Disregarding the unhinged scientists who snatched June from her timeline, we also have to worry about the Federation Haters Club down on the surfaces-'

The tired looking Jim Kirk is cut off by the collected Vulcan who I'd had few conversations with. In all honesty, he scared the shit out of me. He dips his head, his hands clasped behind his back. 'Captain, I understand your qualms. With the Ion Storm still active, there is little we can do except attempt frequent contact to the Comm we sent down-'

Jim growls out a hiss, hand coming up to rub his forehead. 'They can't hear us! Every Comm we've received from Bones, they haven't heard a word we've replied with-'

 _Holy crap. They can hear us._

'I _understand_ , Captain'. A slight tone indents the Vulcan's speech. 'As you heard earlier today, the two appear to be surviving together quite well on the surface of the planet'. Despite the stark differences between the two, there was a calmness in how they spoke and how familiar they seemed with one another. I had never seen the two of them interact, but I was starting to understand the relationship between Spock and James Kirk. That is, assuming this was real at all.

Something told me it was.

Jim throws the Vulcan a look that is both pissed off and apologetic. 'And _now_ you think June was hiding something from us'.

'I never said it was anything to cause worry, Captain. I merely meant to say that I believe Miss Adams was not being entirely truthful-'

Jim sighs, blue eyes sharp, and flips his Comm out of his pocket. 'If you're trying to calm me down, you're doing a pretty poor job, Spock'. The Vulcan breaths out sharply, brow raising, to which the Captain turns pointedly away. 'This is Captain Kirk to CMO McCoy. Bones, you there? The storm is starting to clear up on this end - starting from the West and working its way over to you guys. Can you read me?' I watch, desperate. They _were_ looking for us. And Spock... he would be mighty relieved to know that he was right about me, I'm sure.

I think of McCoy, on his side next to me, half-sleeping to keep an eye on everything around us. He didn't need to be lumbered with the Federation's mistake - we _had_ to get out of here. I couldn't let him die on this unstable planet because of _me_.

My feet slap against the ground, red hair falling into my face. 'Jim. _I_ can hear you,' I breathe. 'Fuck - this is pointless-'

My heart starts fucking _Voguing_ when even Spock's eyebrows shoot up at the sound of my voice, and Kirk drags the Comm closer to his face. 'Adams? _June_? Can you hear me now?'

I stumble forward, the dark wetness gathering around my bare ankles. 'Yes! We're in a cave - we're-' I think hard of the coordinated Leonard had relayed over the dead-end Comm that morning. 'We're two miles West of the pod! The planet - it's going to go fucking _boom_ if we don't _stop_ him-!'

Something tugs at the back of my mind, but I shrug it off.

Jim Kirk's voice raises and raises until it is a dull echo around me. 'June? June stop _who? Bates-?'_

The tugging becomes a sharp yank backwards, so sharp that I yell and-

'Jesus, what the hell are you hollerin' about?' Hands lay flat on my cheeks as I stare up at the cave roof, my mouth dry and my eyes wide. A head falls into my vision, and I see a rumpled McCoy staring down at me. 'Are you alright?'

I push myself up on my elbows, drawing my face closer to McCoy's, and blink in bleary confusion. When a smile tugs at my lips, McCoy looks at me like I'm quite unstable. 'I just spoke to Jim'.

* * *

 **Hello, hello, hello! I'm sure a lot of you can link the Stranger Things reference at the end of the chapter. I hope you all like how this is going, and thank you so much to those taking the time to review! As you can tell from my oh-so lovely begging before, I really appreciate it. I wanna ask a quick question - how would people feel about a McCoy chapter, in third person? I just want to establish my McCoy and how he views the world, his relationships in a way that lets you readers see things from a new perspective. If you think it will throw the story off, that's fine! Just an idea.**

 **Anyway, thank you and review!**


	14. Fast Car

**I received feedback both on here and on my tumblr (qarlgrimes) to do a McCoy chapter. And, well, here it is!**

* * *

 _You got a fast car_  
 _But is it fast enough so you can fly away_  
 _You gotta make a decision_  
 _Leave tonight or live and die this way_

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

* * *

Leonard McCoy considers himself quite an unlucky man.

Pushing aside his piss poor marriage and the even worse divorce to Joce...well, becoming CMO on a damn _spaceship_ was almost laughable, considering his past relationships with anything one-hundred feet above ground. He's quite sure he can blame anything unlucky that has happened to him since joining Starfleet on Jim, though.

Still, since Leonard had saved the kids life, Captain damn Kirk didn't have a leg to stand on.

It's why, he supposes, he isn't exactly surprised to find himself stranded on some God forsaken planet that was falling apart, with a time-travelling Engineer (of all damn things) who could move things with her _mind._ It was, he would say with an exasperated sigh and a bourbon in one hand, just his damn luck.

To make it all that much better, she'd been hollering in her sleep and had woken him up, only to shoot upright (and nearly smack her head against his in the process) and start blabbering about the fact she had spoken to Jim. Jim, who was thousands of feet above them, past an Ion Storm, on the damn _Enterprise_.

He just wants a good nights sleep, dammit.

June - and he wants to laugh at the name, because June was summer and bees and the smell of a muggy Georgian day, and this girl was snark and wit and sharp green eyes that laughed at his, he knew, sour exterior - was adamant on her story. She yanks on the front of his dark shirt when he peers at her, listening to the story of some Void and wet floors and Jim and Spock talking-

She tugs at him again, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he glares at her. June Adams also had very little knowledge on personal space. 'You're not listening!' she insists, that damn red tangle atop her head a mess, and her green eyes lidded with tiredness. The Doctor in him wanted to jab a shot in the side of her neck and make the damn woman _sleep._ 'Doc - Leonard, whatever - I _saw them._ They can hear every transmission we're sending, we just can't hear _them._ But I think...I think the Captain heard me then-'

He's tired and aching and wonders how his life came to this. ' _Sure_ it wasn't a dream-' The green eyes glare, a look he was growing mighty used to. ' _Fine._ Dammit. Let's say this all happened - hell if I know how your damn voodoo mind tricks work - they _still_ can't reach us until the damn storm clears, sweetheart-'

A look of triumph crosses her face, and McCoy snaps his mouth shut, knowing full well he was about to get his ass handed to him. 'Jim said the storm was starting to clear - starting from the West'.

And, dammit, he can't even find it in himself to be annoyed that she had shot his theory down, because they could be getting off this damn planet. _Soon._ June seemed adamant on the fact that whatever had brought her to this timeline was the thing that was tearing this planet apart - Leonard was already wholly aware that even when he got off this planet, he would have to come straight back with a landing team to sort _that_ out.

He looks at June, with her body propped up and her face still pale from sleep and lack of good food. He was hovering over her, and it surprises Leonard for a moment how familiar he has grown to this woman in the few nights they had spent in close quarters. _Woman doesn't seem like the type to introduce herself slowly into someones life, though._ June Adams, he was sure, was a whirlwind of a person, proven even more so when he had seen what she could _do._

'That's mighty fine, darlin', but we still need to _sleep'._ He prods her back by her shoulder, biting back a smirk when she huffs at him and falls back onto the ground, her blanket falling with her. The waning fire dances about the cave, making shadows jump, and Leonard watches them closely. He wasn't the only one who did so, he knows. He had seen her eyes shift to the mouth of the cave more times than he cares to count, and knew that it wasn't the natives she was worried about.

Edgar Bates scared June Adams more than Leonard was sure she would like to admit.

He knows pieces of her life with the mad Doctor who made his blood boil (Doctors _cared_ and _fixed_ and _looked after,_ they did not _create_ with the intent to _destroy_ ) - all that she had remembered and was willing to share. Leonard knew that the experiments Bates conducted on her were to bring forth whatever the hell mumbo-jumbo he and those other Starfleet rejects had done to her. He knew Bates needed her - and saw June as some damn show-dog. He knew June wasn't the first. He knows that she is torn for saving Leonard and, in all honesty, he had been half horrified to see what she was capable of. Still, there was no use in that now. The woman had saved him.

He knows that if Edgar Bates comes for June Adams again, he will do everything in his damn power to keep the chattering, red-haired woman safe.

'You do believe me, right?' She inquires, green eyes blinking at him in the firelight as he settles back down next to her, his joints creaking and his neck sore. He never thought he would miss those damn stiff beds on the Enterprise so much. That, and his Office chair. Damn thing had become his bed more than his _actual_ bed was. He settles onto his side, facing her, and squints over to the English, time-travelling pain in his ass.

He doesn't hesitate before answering, and the answer is a surprise to even him. 'I believe you,' he replies, voice quiet among the hum of insects outside the cave.

She nods, apparently pleased with this answer. There is silence, and then, 'Leonard?'

He wants to throttle the damn woman. ' _June_ ,' he replies, gruff and annoyed and, God, he just _wanted to sleep._

'I never, uh-' She sounds mighty awkward, something Leonard had noticed whenever she showed any type of emotion beyond her childish excitement, her wonderment at the world she was in, and bitter anger. 'I never really thanked you for coming after me...when I stupidly went after Bates. So, y'know, _thanks._ And, er, I'm not going to let you die on this planet. That would be a bit of a shitty way of thanking you-'

He feels a fondness, for this woman who had been thrust into his already chaotic life. It wasn't a new feeling - the night he had held her when she cried had been because he _wanted_ her to feel better. It was a dangerous thing, to grow fond of those who found themselves on the _Enterprise_. To consider them a _friend._ He is thirty-four years old, and has learnt in his years that nothing good lasts very long but, for some odd reason, he wants this girl - this _woman_ to find some ounce of happiness in the terrible turn of events that is her life. And, dammit, if he can offer some semblance of friendship to the lonely June Adams, he will.

'You saved my life,' he tells her, as she lays on her back and he lays facing her, watching her eyes flicker in the dark and her chest rise and fall. 'We're even. Now, go to God damn sleep before I make you-'

She snorts, a sound he thinks his Ma might enjoy, and nods. 'Sure thing, Grumpy'.

Leonard isn't that damn naive about things from her time. His Grandma always had a liking to the old fairy tales, and would read them to him when things were a lot more damn simple. He tucks his head onto his arm, wishes he had a steaming pot of dark coffee waiting for him in the morning, and replies, 'Night... _Dopey_ ', in such a juvenile way that he's sure Spock would raise his goddamn eyebrow and Jim would swallow a shit-eating grin.

Her laugh echoes around the terrible, dark and God forsaken cave. Loud as it was, the sound was surprisingly fitting for the 5'5, red haired woman with a grin that had _not_ made him trip over a few days ago.

* * *

Leonard McCoy has delivered eight damn alien babies at one time, he's stood by the side of the Captain James. T Stupid-Ass Kirk, he's managed to be CMO of the most reckless damn Federation ship in the 'Fleet-

Still, when he realises the thing pressed against the lines of his front and exactly _what_ his arm is wrapped around...well, his heart all but jumps to his throat.

He's not a damn teenager. He is an adult man - an accomplished Doctor and surgeon and Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise! Then why is God's name does he feel a heat rising up his neck - his scratchy neck; he needed a damn shave the moment he stepped foot on the Enterprise - and a sudden calmness at the feel of someone wrapped in his arms-

It has been, Leonard McCoy decides then, far, _far_ too long.

He has a bundle of short, red curls that smell like smoke from the fire bundled underneath his nose, and he's sure that this is what woke him up. His legs, which feel stiff and bruised, are curled to match the shorter, curvier ones that line him. Dammit - _curvy?_ He's from the damn _South._ He does not leer at women he is supposed to be _protecting._ If there's one thing his Ma and Pa taught him, it's to treat a lady with damn _respect,_ and-

June moves, all stretching limbs and and ribs moving beneath his fingers. She talks in her sleep; something of which Leonard had noticed the first night they slept in the cave, the cold surrounding them and her fingers locked in his own. She would mumble odd, disconnected sentences that made no sense, and the same was happening now. From what he could gather, her head resting in front of his, he was listening to something that sounded very much like _spiritual chanting._

The woman was odd. That, he was constantly adamant on.

The fire had died overnight, leaving the cave in a half darkness. The light from outside told him that it could not be more than 0400 hours. Nyota had assured him that the planet had 24 hour days; the same as Earth. He supposes that's why they had moved so close to each other in the night, both concerned with the simple need for warmth.

She moves again (she moved a damn _lot)_ legs kicking out and landing on his shin as she turned ungracefully beneath her crinkling blanket, all the way around until she was facing him, her green eyes bloodshot and hooded with sleep as she blinks blearily at him. Leonard stares right back, mouth shut and gaze trying to find the lines of her face in the darkness.

His arm is still around her middle, underneath their blankets which seemed to have become one during the night.

Then, with an expression he had grown familiar with, she wrinkles her nose and clamps her eyes shut, her nose a hairbreadth away of his. 'Fucking Christ, Len. It's not even light outside, you weirdo. Go back to _sleep'._ She moves closer to him and he stiffens, wanting to curse this woman who apparently had no issue with personal boundaries of space. Jesus, she was like _Jim._

It was hard to believe, looking at her now, that she was perhaps more powerful than even that bastard _Khan._

 _Len._ Jocelyn would call him that, when they were both at College. To her, that was his name. A pet-name given to him by his girlfriend, fiance, wife, and then mother of his only child. He hadn't had a nickname since her; not since Jim had dubbed him Bones in the early days of their careers at Starfleet Academy. He thought he might flinch if someone were to call him the nickname again (a nickname that had changed from Len to Leonard in the last years of his marriage) but, in all honesty, it felt fresh to hear it in the voice a sleepy, brave, time-travelling woman who was bundled so close to him.

He keeps his hands safely on her waist, adamant that he would rather damn _die_ than disrespect her and let it wander south in his sleep. Especially a damn twenty- _four_ year old. With her warm breath puffing against his, Leonard McCoy falls into a half-sleep, well aware of the woman he had elected to protect the moment he ran after her in the forest...well aware that, in fact, it seemed a lot of the time _she_ was the one protecting _him_.

* * *

He thinks of Johanna what must be ten times an hour, always wondering how she was doing in school, whether she was beginning to grow into that abrasive, stubborn and honest personality that Joce would insist with something akin to a smile Johanna got from _him._ He was glad for that. He spoke to her whenever he could, using the Comm screen in his Quarters, and he could see that despite the fact Jo had Jocelyn's blue eyes, she had his hair and nose.

He would not leave the kid fatherless, that was for damn sure.

June snaps him from his thoughts, her feet splashing against the bothersome water that trickles outside the cave mouth. Leonard was content for just a moment, his back sore from a night of forcing himself to sleep on his side to accommodate June, but he rises to his feet all the same at the sound of June's voice, ordering him to _come here, now!_

He does, peering at her with what he knows to be a glare as she grins at him, her green eyes so much lighter in the sun, and-

Leonard looks up, and breathes a good fifty curses of relief when he is met with a peak of sunlight filtering through the thick, rolling clouds of the Storm. Though still there, it was _moving East._ scrambles for the Comm, tucked away in his pocket, and flips it open as she June gazes up at him, her cheek smudged with soot from the fire.

'McCoy to Enterprise. The Ion Storm is clearing. Can you hear me, Enterprise-'

' _Bones_?'

June clenches her fists and stomps her feet in what Leonard can only assume is a show of happiness. 'Jim,' McCoy sighs, the tension from the last few days sagging out of him. 'Hearing you loud and clear'. He knows fully well that Jim will be on the Bridge, and can imagine now the shared looks of relief from his fellow crew members. He had been witness to the looks many times, upon hearing Jim, Spock or Sulu's voice breathe through the Comm after hours of silence.

He recognises the elation in Jim's voice. The kid was shit at hiding any emotion when it really came down to it. 'Christ, Bones, you've been radio silent for days, now. Well, aside from last night'. He looks to June, hazel eyes on green, and watches as her shoulders tense and her jaw clenches. _She hadn't dreamt it._ Jesus - the fact only opened up more questions as to what the hell the woman was capable of. 'The storm's clearing, but it's going to be an hour until we can beam you up. Make your way to the extraction point - where the pod is-'

McCoy nods, eyes still locked onto June's. 'Copy that, Captain'. He pauses. 'Jim...there's a lot we need to discuss when we get up there. You're going to need to do readings on this damn planet when you can. Earthquakes have been shakin' the damn thing on and off and...well...June has some theories as to what is causin' them'. He watches her cheeks colour, recognising the attention to intelligence she hated to show. God knows why. Despite over 200 hundred years difference between them, Scotty had informed him that the woman could hold a conversation about Engineering without pausing for breath.

'...Copy that, Bones. June is alright?' His tone changes, and Leonard can almost imagine Jim looking up at that pointy eared know-it-all. 'She sounded...well, she sounded pretty erratic last night, Bones. Bates is-'

June steps forward, once again invading his sacred personal space. She hovers above the Comm in his hand, her cheeks pink once again. 'My bad, man. Just get us off this thing as soon as you can, because...' She glances up at Leonard, and he looks right back, wondering what the hell she could have said to Jim. 'What I said...still stands true, Cap'.

There's a pause, and then, 'Copy that. One hour, Bones. Enterprise over and out'.

Leonard flips the Comm shut, his forehead tense and his brow cocking. He damn _hates_ being on the outside of information he's pretty sure he should know. He guesses, to some extent, its his fault for not fully believing June the night before. 'The hell did you say to them?' He snaps, slipping the Comm into his pocket and crossing his arms.

June looks sideways at him, a half shrug telling him all he needs to know. '...I may have mentioned something about the planet going _boom-'_

Jesus. 'Good _Lord_ , woman-'

Her nose wrinkles and she glares up at him, her arms crossing over her own chest. Leonard is quite sure that if he were to truly anger the woman, she would be mighty terrifying. 'Oh, don't _woman_ me! I didn't even know if it was real life or dreaming! I saw an opportunity and I took it. I _could_ have said more if you hadn't _woken me up-'_

That, he won't apologise for. 'You sounded like you were havin' a damn night terror! Next time, I'll be sure to leave you-'

He sees the damn grin flash across her features, and knows full well he has stepped into whatever trap she had laid. 'Doctor,' she muses, in that English accent that was nothing like the well-spoken, _rooty-tooty_ (as Chekov so maturely would say) speech of Carol Marcus (or Wallace, what damn _ever_ ). 'I didn't know you expected us to end up in the same position again-' He turns away from her and stomps into the cave, and _not_ because he wishes to hide the red creeping up his neck, ignoring the echoing of her laughter. 'I was _joking_!'

'Get your stuff together, ya damn comedian,' he grumbles, stooping to yank his blanket off of the floor and fold it into the packet. 'We're gonna leave in five minutes. On the damn _dot'._

She joins him, her wet feet slopping against the ground, and throws him a sideways smile when he finally looks over to her. He is fully aware of the teasing tone to her smile, and rolls his eyes all the same. 'Thanks for making sure I didn't die on the dumb planet,' June says, gathering everything the Enterprise had sent down and bundling it into the pack, now crouched beside Leonard.

'We're not gone yet, sweetheart,' Leonard replies, zipping up the Starfleet pack and hoisting it up. Throwing it over his shoulder, he looks over to her and at the cave. 'Right back at you'. He's not _so_ proud that he won't acknowledge what she did for him - the innocence that she lost. He remembers lives lost from his doing, be it patients that others insists he cannot shoulder the blame of, or enemies in battle. He doesn't miss the flicker that crosses her features. 'You'll be right by side when I report everythin' to Jim,' he insists. 'I've got your back. Not that you need me. Ain't no damn way Jim won't understand everythin' '.

She smiles at him; a grateful smile that was a stark difference from the pale horror he had seen on her face nearly everyday on her first few days aboard the _Enterprise_. He doesn't think of her going home in moments like that. With the introduction of the damn portal, such a thing might be possible. Selfish, he knows.

'Thanks, Len'.

* * *

 **Okay, okay...I hope that was okay? I wanted to try and translate the way in which McCoy is becoming fond of her, as well as his character and past and whatever else I could cram into just over 3000 words? If you have any other requests, review or contact me on my tumblr, qarlgrimes!**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews, I can't believe they're almost at 70! You guys are the best. Keep 'em coming!**


	15. Layla

_What'll you do when you get lonely_  
 _And nobody's waiting by your side?_  
 _You've been running and hiding much too long._  
 _You know it's just your foolish pride._

Layla - Derek & The Dominos

* * *

'-Dammit. These damn insects are gettin' on my last _damn_ nerve-'

I wince, tripping over a vine and narrowly avoiding a muddy puddle. I was almost starting to miss the cave. It appeared that I had only seen a small portion of what the rain-forest of Clion 2BA could offer before being locked in the bunker, and it was _far_ more dangerous, colourful and _messy_ than I remembered. I swear to God, I had seen a dragon-fly the size of Leonard's massive head.

'You say _damn_ a lot,' I gasp, out of breathe and wishing to God I had attended my student gym way more.

McCoy elects to ignore me.

We were half a mile off of where the Enterprise would _hopefully_ beam us up in seventeen minutes, according to Leonard. I was beyond overjoyed to get back on that brightly lit, disarmingly clean ship, with its wonderful plastic air and hard mattresses. _Heaven_. That didn't, of course, mean that I wasn't utterly shitting myself, Leonard had said so himself - it was time to talk to Jim, to tell him what had happened and what was _happening._

I was nervous as hell.

'Are you sure you don't want me to carry the pack?' I ask for the second time that day, since leaving our little cave behind. The oval Starfleet pack was strapped across the Doctor's torso and sitting heavily against his back. I wasn't sure that we really needed any of the things in there, but leaving behind anything connected to Starfleet may upset whatever people on this planet were not for the whole 'Federation' thing.

I _get_ you, guys. Brexit _stung_.

He sighs, just two steps in front of me, and glances to look over his broad shoulder. In the last three days, the Doctor had gone from the put together, rough around the edges man from the Enterprise, to this grubby, rugged, stubbled man before me. It was taking everything in my strong woman mind to not glance at him every ten bloody seconds. 'My Ma would have my hide if she knew I was making a lady carry this damn pack,' is his snippy reply.

I swallow my smile, quite taken with the idea of McCoy being reprimanded by some Southern mum in a bloody petticoat. Maybe that was a little too stereotypical... 'Whilst slightly sexist, that is might gallant of you, Doctor McCoy. Thank you, oh heroic _hero_ you-'

'Just say thank you and be quiet,' he grumbles, adjusting the strap of the bag and ducking underneath a low hanging branch. Above us, a swarm of birds swoops through the trees, rattling the branches and making me jump out of my damn skin. I, once again, swallow my smile and carry along after him. The more we trekked through the beautiful, dangerous world, I was thankful that McCoy had a phaser-

'What are you _doing-?'_ I snap. McCoy had stalled in front of me, before swinging around on his feet and yanking me with him to the thick, ancient looking tree to our right, his knees locking mine in his place and his rough hand slamming over my mouth. My back lands hard against the trunk of the tree, with my words catching against the palm of his hand.

I am right about ready to _throttle_ him.

I hear it then. The light trampling of feet through the foliage. My heart seizes in my chest as I think, for one horrifying moment, that it is _him._ Bates. He's found us. Him and his fucking _bodyguards_. McCoy's hard body, pressed close to mine, suddenly makes all the sense in the world. I reach up, slowly, to grab at his hand and pull it slowly away from my mouth. His gaze, which had looked beyond the line of the tree we hid behind, snaps back to mine.

With something akin to reassurance, his fingers curl with mine.

'Natives,' he mutters, low enough that even I barely hear it. 'Three adults and a child. Not sure if they're friendlies or not-'

I shift, and my knee slips between his, making my face go scarlet. I note the stiffening of his arm, which rests on the bark to my right, and I try very hard not to melt into a puddle of mortification. 'Can I see?' I whisper. I was yet to see the people of this planet...and to see them in their natural habitat. Well...it was something I couldn't risk missing - not with how close I was to leaving this colourful world.

Leonard moves slightly, allowing me to sneak a look over my shoulder to where, with a squint, I see three blue and tall figures wading through the forest, a couple dozen meters in front of us. They had some kind of horse with them, except scaled and bigger, like it was some over-sized lizard. I gaze at them, these scantily dressed, alien-like figures who were so wrapped up in their beautiful world-

' _Amazing_ ,' I breathe. I turn back to look up at McCoy, whose hand is still joined with mine, pressed between both our chests. I grin. His careful gaze is still on the gangling Clions. 'How do you ever get _tired_ of this?'

He looks back to me, jaw tight and expression distracted beyond admiring the natives. I offer a half smile, my grin falling somewhat. With my free hand, I reach up to wipe a beading of sweat from his forehead, my own heart feeling tight in my chest as I do so. He hardly moves, instead watching me with that rigid face and hard eyes. 'Guess I just needed remindin', sweetheart'. He lets go of my hand, before stepping away from me. 'C'mon. They've gone. Not long, now'.

I end up tripping after him again, trying hard to pat away the sweat on my forehead and stop the annoying, nervous thrum of my heart. Jesus - why did I wipe away his sweat? Who _does that?_

It is then that I see it, after a few more minutes walking. The pod, still mossy and messy and left to rot on this mysterious planet. It seems so fucking long ago that I had last looked at it. How _little_ I had known then, huh? It seemed _everything_ had changed in those short days. _Everything's going to keep changing. This whole planet could be nothing if you all don't figure out how to close the portal. But you know...you know what has to happen._

'Bones?'

'In place, Jim. Beam us up, Scotty'.

We stand on the uneven ground, and I look around at the disturbed ground where the small explosives must have gone off, days ago.

And so comes back the odd, melting feeling as the world around me dissolves from growing sunlight and muggy air, to harsh lights and chilly, plastic air that is a relief to my skin. I sigh, my feet on solid, flat ground as I step off of the podium, smiling when I see Jim Kirk, Scotty and Mister Spock waiting there for us. Jim grins when Leonard steps forward, his arms wrapping around the shoulders of the man who grumbles and pats his friends back in return.

I follow suite, suddenly very aware of how dirty we were among the cleanliness of the Enterprise. I needed a damn sonic shower, no matter how much I hated the things.

'Miss Adams'. I look to Mister Spock, my nerves on edge at the sharp, intelligent gaze of the Vulcan. He dips his head, sweeping eyebrows level. 'It is good to see you well and alive'.

'Jus' good?' laughs Scotty, stepping forward to smack me solidly on the back. I cough and grin, to which Spock raises a single brow. 'Don't be too generous now, Mister Spock! How are ya, lassie?'

I smile, inching my gaze toward where Leonard speaks lowly with Jim. The Doctor, almost as if sensing my gaze, glances over to me with a knowing look. 'Hungry, Mister Scotty. And in desperate need of a shower'.

'Aye, lassie. Ya smell like ya need one, too. Only jokin', I am!'

I snort.

'Miss Adams?' All three of us look over to Jim and Leonard. My stomach clenches with nerves at what is about to come - the truth, finally. 'Would you join Doctor McCoy, Mister Spock and I for a briefing of the mission?'

 _Here we fucking go._

I nod, swallowing tightly as I look to Scotty and force a smile. I wanted nothing more than to clean myself and sleep, to even be tucked away in the simple cave here Leonard and I had bickered and lived for the past three days. I was terrified - terrified of the judgement, of the fear, of the knowledge that I was not some simple cargo, but a _massive_ issue.

It is only when Jim and Spock exit the Beaming Room first and Leonard waits for me at the door, his gaze hard, that I truly understand how much I needed the Doctor by my side when I relayed this story.

* * *

'-You saw Bates?' Jim asks, looking quickly from Leonard to myself. Apparently, the Doctor must have nodded, because Jim leans back in his seat, eyebrows high. Even Mister Spock, who stands behind his seated Captain, looks interested.

I nod. 'I, er, I went after him. I don't know _why._ I nearly got all of you killed - it was _obviously_ a trap, I'm sure you've all figured out'. I bite the inside of my cheek, seated next to Leonard in the Captain's Briefing Room. 'Leonard came after me, the idiot, and they shot us with something. Made us pass out for however long-'

'Simple drug. No lasting effects,' Leonard cuts in at Jim's curious look his way. The Captain nods, his chin between his fingers, and waves for me to carry on. 'She wasn't awake for the first half of this, Jim. They had us in a cell. Brought water when she was still knocked out. Not any Starfleet personnel that I recognise. Might have even been a hired hand'. He looks at me, nodding for me to carry on.

'I woke up and they came in and took _him_ away, to preform surgery on one of the Doctors who was harmed in the landing of the pod-'

'Died,' McCoy cuts in, matter-of-fact and to the point.

'-And that's when he came to see me. Bates'. With his white hair, blue eyes and skin like paper. I swallow, fists clenched against my thighs. 'He told me things. He told me there is a portal, in the place we were. I think it's how they brought me here. Leonard found an earring that I had been wearing the night...it happened, in the corner of the cell-'

'It may have been to lead you astray?' Spock muses.

I shrug. 'I don't know why they would. He said...he said that there was one before me. _One._ A boy...he was just a kid. He died before they could do anything to him...like they did with me'. _Was he from my time? Did he have a family? Did he deserve this as little as I do? Did he even understand what was happening to him?_ 'Bates said that a lot of things would come through this _portal._ Objects and animals - but _One_ was the first human. After he came and died, the Doctors...they started to understand what happened to humans when they went through the portal. The _things_ that we could do. It's why they tried again, and they got me. _Two'._

Kirk is peering at me, eyes ridiculously blue and wide, the face of a Captain glaring back at me, not the friendly Jim Kirk. 'What things, June?'

Spock shifts, his back straightening and his hands disappearing to link behind his back. I'm sure he was pleased that his theory had been right, after all.

Next to me, McCoy shifts and I feel, to my utter surprise, fingers tap against my knee. _You got this, darlin'._

The words get tied in my head and coming out of my mouth, but in the end I manage to find a way to say it where I don't sound _too_ much like a lunatic. '...Like my nose bleeding. Like lights flickering around me. Like the glass smashing in McCoy's Office, and on the _Chronos_. Like the Enterprise...dropping out of warp'. I swallow, trying as hard as I can to maintain Jim's gaze. 'Like the men, I-' I choke, cheeks red, and swallow tightly. Was there a way to possibly say it without the harsh reality that I had killed two men with my _mind_?

'Permission to speak, Jim?'

Blue eyes jump from me to Leonard. 'Of course, Bones'.

His fingers drop away from my knee, so that both hands are folded on the metal table in front of us. 'Those bastards took me to some tiny damn room the moment I was done with their crew member. I was still covered in the mans damn _blood_ , for Christ's sake. Bates, the psychopath, had June locked up, between two rooms with two-way windows. Whilst he and some other crack-pot watched, they had her watch me bein' held at phaser-point'. He waves a hand when Jim blinks, his mouth opening. 'I'm _obviously_ fine, Jim. But these things that June is tellin' you about - they're real as anythin'. Damned if I know what the hell that _portal_ did to her, but she...well, sweetheart, sorry to be blunt here. She made those to men bleed from their eyes mouth and eyes and drop to the floor like _flies-'_

' _Jesus_ , Len!' I snap, not sure whether to laugh or cry. ' _I_ could have said it better than _that_!'

He crosses his arms over his chest. 'Well, _you_ weren't goin' to!'

I turn desperately back to the blinking Captain. 'Jim, he's making me sound like some fucked up version of _Carrie._ I didn't...I don't know how it works, okay? And I know that sounds like I'm some _loose_ bloody canon, but I...I would _never_ hurt any of you. From what I can gather on _it_ -' I touch the back of my skull, as if feeling for the nagging tingling I would feel. 'It's like it's...I don't know... _me'._

'You mean to say, Miss Adams, that with the intent to kill...you did just that?'

I look up to where Mister Spock stands, and shake my head, my face warm with desperation. 'I didn't...I didn't _know_ that was going to happen to them. I just knew that I needed to make them stop and once I felt it...' I clasp my hands tightly in front of me. 'I let it happen. I didn't stop it'.

Jim holds up his hand, silencing me. 'Adams. I never would once think that you would intentionally _hurt_ anyone aboard this vessel. I trust Doctor McCoy with my life and if he trusts you, and he has seen this first hand... _I_ trust you. That doesn't change the fact that you don't _really_ know what this is'.

 _It protects me, I know that much._ I don't say this. Instead, I nod. 'I don't think Bates really knew what he was doing to me, when he brought me here. He doesn't understand it-'

'The man right about wet himself when he saw what she was capable of. I would be _dead_ if it wasn't for her, Jim'. I look at McCoy, only to have him shrug. 'Don't look at me like that. It's damn true. You saved my ass and you know it. I thanked you once - it won't be happenin' again, sweetheart'.

I scoff. 'How lovely, Leonard. Thank you'.

Jim clears his throat pointedly. 'Mister Spock, what do you make of this?'

The First Officer steps forward, at the ready. I look up at him, from his blue shirt to his dark, hard eyes and pale skin, tinged with green. 'I believe that Miss Adams means us no harm, Captain. That does not, though, change the fact that she unknowingly dropped the Enterprise out of warp with this telekinetic ability that we are yet to understand'.

I nod. bitter and yet understanding his reasoning. 'It reacts with emotions. I know that now. I can... _try_ to control it'.

'I mean not disrespect, Miss Adams, but humans often fail at this-'

'Dammit, Spock, what do you want her to do?' McCoy growls. 'Be a damn robot like you?'

'That is not what I was referring to, Doctor McCoy-'

'Um,' I cut in tentatively. 'I realise that this is a _massive_ issue, but remember what I said about Clion 2BA going boom? Yeah, that's still going to happen unless we figure out how to close that bloody portal'.

' _Right_ ,' McCoy coughs, shifting in his seat. 'We experienced three separate, low magnitude quakes whilst on the surface of the planet, Jim. None were subject of the Storm. It was June who figured out the reason, linking to what Bates had hinted to her'. I throw a look his way, trying to conceal my surprise. He had all but hidden the fact that Bates had told me point blank, but I had failed to mention it to McCoy. 'The damn thing needs to be closed. We need to get back down there, and June needs to come with us'.

'Bones, _no'._ Jim looks to me, his hand raised between us as if to calm the situation. 'No offence, Adams, but you're not qualified for this-'

'Jim, she is the _only_ one with any kind of connection to that damn thing. We have no idea what we're going to be in for when we come face to face with it. And when you see what she can do...Hell, you're gonna be mighty glad you took her down there with us. You know I, of all people, would not be pushing for this'. Leonard taps the table, as if adding to his point. 'She's not defenceless, Jim. After spending three days with June Adams, I get tell you that much. It wasn't me protecting her out there'.

I gape at the Doctor. I could fucking hug him.

The Captain sighs, sharing a look over his shoulder with Mister Spock. 'We'll discuss this after the both of you get a nights rest. Bones, that's an _order_. The Sick Bay is doing fine without you. You stink, and you look like shit. Chekov has been keeping an eye on the quakes once we noted them - what? I just wanted to see if your story matched up - and they're pretty far apart. Barely moving the planets crust. We've got time to plan, okay? You say you trapped Bates in the bunker?'

We both nod.

'Good. This will give us enough time to look into everything the both of you have told us. There should be signs of a power source where you say the bunker is, if this portal is there at all. Now the Storm is clearing, we can get a better look'. I bristle, and Leonard huffs. ' _Sleep._ Set both your alarms for 0600 hours and I'll have more information for you then. You both look dead on your feet, and you smell it, too'.

'I am inclined to agree,' Spock says, monotone as ever.

* * *

'-But what if it _isn't_ stable?' I argue, as we step out of the lift and onto the floor. Around us, a ship-wide announcement with the Captain's voice tells the crew that myself and Doctor McCoy had made it back safely. 'What if the whole planet gets _sucked_ into the portal? What if he brings someone else here? What if he-'

'I don't know! Jim is sure of this, and we've gotta trust him-'

I huff. 'Men think they know _everything-'_

'When they're Captain's, they sure as shit do-' We stop, and I wonder why the Doctor is standing outside my door, before I realise his Quarters are right next to mine. He snaps his mouth shut, before nodding to my door. 'Sleep. Doctor's orders'.

I cock a brow and wrinkle my nose. 'Same goes to you'. He huffs and rolls his eyes, before entering a code quickly to his door. His whizzes open, and I wonder for an odd second what McCoy's personal Quarters really looked like. 'Are you going to shave?' I inquire, a sudden surge of bravery whooshing through me.

Leonard frowns and reaches up to rub the scruff at his cheeks. 'Protocol,' he grumbles.

I hum, entering the code to my room and stepping forward as the door swishes open. 'Shame. Suits you'. With that, I smile and allow the door to slip shut behind me, quite glad at the way in which McCoy's mouth had dropped open ever so slightly. I think of this as I strip off my dirty, smelly clothes and fling them to the corner of the room before stepping into the sonic shower and letting it do its thing. I must stand there for half an hour, willing every speck of dirty off of my poor, aching body.

I think of Jim and Spock's face. I think of them not trusting I was completely safe to have around.

As I brush my teeth, I look into the mirror and imagine it shattering in front of me, just like the glass on the _Chronos_ had. Just like the glass in front of the two dead bodies and McCoy's kneeling one had. Had he really meant what he said, when he assured the Captain and Mister Spock that I was safe to have around? That I was to be trusted? And also...

...The portal meant _home_ may be on the other side. Home, with University, open air, phone calls from my parents and a world on solid ground. Home, hundreds of years before this one would even exist - if it would at all. Of course, it was unlikely Starfleet would allow me to step into something that was unknown. But soon, maybe, I would be with my family again.

Why was it that I could not understand living in that world again, knowing what I know and having seen what I have seen? I would go _mad._

I drop the toothbrush onto the counter with a clatter and wash my mouth out with the water from the ship, before glaring at myself in the mirror again. I looked awful - tired and pale and in desperate need of a meal. I think of McCoy, in the next room, and wonder if he was already asleep. It felt odd, to be alone for the first time in days. Usually, I was the type of person who can spend _days_ amusing myself with books and movies. I didn't even want to sleep, something which I loved.

Sleep, no matter how much I needed it, seemed a scary thing. In sleep, I was out of my own control. In sleep, I saw red eyes and smudged teeth.

I eat curled up on the sofa, my pyjamas soft against my clean skin and my red hair finally free of its tangles. I drink a good gallon of water and scoff down the vegetable medley, a holo of some romantic comedy featuring a Vulcan and a human playing in front of me. In all honesty, it wasn't very funny. No wonder McCoy was moody all the time, if this was the only shit Starfleet was offering in their version of Netflix.

It is with bare feet padding across the chilled floor and eyes slipping shut that I fall into the stiff bed, wrapping myself in the warmth of the blankets and muttering for the lights to turn off. I don't know what time it is. I don't care to check on my discarded PADD. All I know is that I am exhausted, aching, and that I hoped to God Jim would allow me to join them on that planet.

* * *

 _The Void is a horrible place, I decide._

 _It is both wet and dry. Both foul smelling and not smelling of anything at all. Both loud and silent. Both alive and dead. It is as if Hell had become a single entity; as if this place, if occupied for too long, would drive you mad._

 _He is there the moment I open my eyes._

 _His white coat is spattered with blood, all different shades and colours and thickness. Some is old, some is new. Some is soaking against him right now, as he holds the scalpel against the throat of the man in his grasp. He is the one who had stood with him in the room, watching me as I watched McCoy almost die. I gag and step back, my feet smacking against the floor._

 _The body drops to the floor, and Bates turns to look over his shoulder._

 _'Get rid of them. All of them. Burn them all!'_

* * *

I bolt upright the moment there is a knock at my door, and my already thumping heart nearly falls out of my bloody arse. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, and that I am _safe._ I am no longer in the cave, cold and open to threat. I am safe, on the _Enterprise_. But the dream...had it been a dream at all?

' _Dammit_. June? I ain't one be bargin' into a woman's room, but if you don't answer-' His voice is grumpy and rough with sleep and I'm not sure what noise comes out of my mouth to tell him to enter my room, but it is enough for him to push open the door and enter. 'Lights to thirty percent'. I stare at him, with his clean shaved face and his mussed hair and his checked trousers and loose black shirt, and I feel suddenly like I am relieved to see him, even in my state.

'Er,' I croak. 'Bad dream'.

'Yeah,' agrees the Doctor, looking unsure of himself, as if he has rushed here without really meaning to. 'I know...I saw'.

It takes me a moment to understand what he meant, before I gawp at him. 'I made you _see it -_ I, what, _projected onto you?'_ Jesus. What the _fuck_? I reach up to rub my face, only find the remnants of tears. I blush and scrub at them, beginning to grow tired of the sheer amount of times Leonard McCoy had seen me cry. 'I'm sorry,' I sigh, my voice hitching. 'I'm _sorry'._

'It's fine...I,' he swallows, awkward and shifting. 'I shouldn't be comin' into your Quarters unannounced, or using my damn overriding code, but once I saw...Hell-'

I look up at him, pathetic and useless and piled with covers, but wishing more than anything he would say the words that I knew he wanted to say. _Comfort. He knows you need comfort, and he needs it, too._ '...Can you?' The question, posed silently, is met with his eyes latching onto mine, and a stiff nod from him.

'Move up, sweetheart'.

I do, knowing fully well that this was crossing some unwritten boundary, that this was different from those shared nights of warmth in that cave. I press myself to the wall as he lumbers into the bed, dressed in clothes far too casual for how I had seen him so far. _This is comfort. He saw what you saw. He knows what you need, and he's giving it to you._ Selfishly, I take it.

He is warm and smells of leather and bourbon, and I wonder if he had a glass before going to bed. I face him, my back pressed against the wall, and keep his hazel gaze as he slips under the covers, his joints cracking as he does so. I reach for his arm, half way, and place it over my waist, before bunching my fingers in the fabric of his shirt and doing the same to him.

'I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this,' I whisper, both our heads resting on the pillow. His skin looked softer, now it was shaven clean. 'I have to keep my bad-ass exterior believable, y'know?'

He rolls his eyes. 'Gotta say - it never was _all_ that believable, sweetheart-'

'Fuck off'. I swallow my smile. 'I'm sorry I made you see that... _that,_ and... _thank_ _you_ for backing me up earlier. I know following the rules is a massive turn on for, you so-'

He shifts, fingers staying in a perfectly safe zone, and knocks his knee with mine. 'You need to stop thankin' me, sweetheart'.

I feel his warmth through the fabric of his shirt, travelling to my fingertips. When had we grown so close on that planet? When I had saved his life? When he had comforted me through my tears and assured me I was not the monster Bates wanted me to be? When I told him of parts of my life, and he told me his? It was near breathtaking, then, to realise he was my _friend._ Someone who looked out for me for reasons beyond medical or official.

And I _cared_ about him. I cared about Jim. I cared about Scotty and Jommin and even the dead woman who had helped me escape. Maria.

 _Fuck._

Some minutes later, as my eyes flicker shut, I feel a swipe of a thumb against my jawline, where a stray tear had fallen in my sleep earlier. I smile, sleepily, and mutter something along the lines of, 'You're s' damn corny, Doc'.

To which, in his charming Southern fashion, the good Doctor replies, 'Go to sleep, you damn idiot'.

* * *

 **YooooOOOooOOOoo. So, as you can see, there's companionship before there is romance. I want something that is equal - they help each other, you know? We still got a while to go, lads and ladies and everything in between. This is a slow burner - not only for June/McCoy, but everyone else, too. I want her friendships to be real, as well. Concerning June projecting her dream - well, I like to think that because it isn't a dream, it's a little different. I know this isn't something that comes up in Stranger Things, but I like the idea of her being able to connect with those she becomes close with on a mental level to some extent**

 **Can anyone guess what's going to happen with the portal? It's a pretty iconic scene from Stranger Things :) :) :) Anyway, please, please, please review! Let's I'll next update when we have 80 reviews. Just a simple line guys, it would make my day! Thank you x100000 to the people who have left such lovely and lengthy reviews. Remember, I take suggestions, so if there is anything you might want to see, tell me!**

 **Also follow my qarlgrimes, fam.**


	16. Rocket Man

_And I think it's gonna be a long long time_

 _'Till touch down brings me round again to find_  
 _I'm not the man they think I am at home_  
 _Oh no no no I'm a rocket man_  
 _Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone_

 _Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids_  
 _In fact it's cold as hell_  
 _And there's no one there to raise them if you did_  
 _And all this science I don't understand_  
 _It's just my job five days a week_  
 _A rocket man, a rocket man_

Rocket Man - Elton John

* * *

I don't dream for the rest of the night.

I know, it sounds fucking awfully cliche, right? The whole 'sharing a bed with someone keeps the nightmares at bay' trope...but it _does._ It's always been that way with me. When I was really young, I was practically attached to my mothers side; always crawling into bed between my parents because the feel of someone beside me whilst I slept made me sleep just that much deeper.

Apparently, it does not stop me from drooling all over my damn pillow.

I start awake, my head resting on something much harder and higher up than the soft pillows of the Enterprise. Plus, I'm pretty sure pillow don't _breathe._ It is then that I remember. My dream...my _nightmare._ Another thing that I was apparently able to do, with this horrible emotion driven _thing_ that was happening to me, was show horrible shit like that to Doctors who were just trying to help me.

The pillow isn't a pillow, I'm sure you've figured out. It's Leonard McCoy. Whilst he lay flat on his back, I had apparently decided to throw my arm over his broad chest and plonk my head right over his heart. I was, past partners had told me, a fucking koala in bed. And not in a kinky way. I would latch on to you and _never let go._ With a quick peak up, my eyes bleary from sleep, I see the sleeping face of the Doctor, his hair a mess and the lines of his face shockingly relaxed, for such a high-strung man.

He is also a light sleeper too, apparently. With my stirring, he blearily blinks open his eyes and swallows, his gaze flickering down to me.

'I totally drooled on you,' I tell him. 'I'm really sorry'.

It's only then that I realise the arm I was laying across was tucked behind my back, and his fingers spring to life as he begins to wake up, brushing against the skin exposed between my t-shirt and pyjama trousers. My face, already pink, must be fucking maroon at this point.

'I noticed,' he grumbles, reaching with his free hand to rub at his forehead. 'Thought a damn bucket of water had been splashed on me-'

'Oh, bugger _off_ ,' I snort, trying very hard not to think about how close I was laying to him, how _hard_ the lines of his body felt, and how bloody good the Doctor smelt, even after a night of sleep. 'I - er...This is kind of weird, right?'

It's his turn to scoff, the sound rough. 'Yeah, sweetheart. It's damn bizarre. Shockingly, I don't normally find myself crawlin' into bed with time travellin' witches who drool all over my clean sleepin' shirt-'

I thump his chest. 'I'm not a _witch'._ After a hard blink and a pause, I look back up at him. '...That's pretty cool, actually-' It is then that my PADD, discarded on my bedside table, rings with an annoying, rising tone that scares the utter _shit_ out of me. I yelp and bolt upright, confused until I realise, with the numbers 05:30 AM flashing on the screen, that it was an alarm.

'Fastest I've ever seen you move'.

'You're funny'. I look down at him, from his mussed hair to his rumpled shirt (with the slight wet patch, ahem) and snort. 'Man, I really thought you were an arsehole when I first met you. Who would have thought _you'd_ be the one comforting _me_ -'

'I was accommodating as hell, you brat!' Leonard shoots right back, shifting now that I had sat up. I think, for just a moment, how utterly odd this situation is. When had I felt so comfortable in this mans presence, that I could wake up, looking an utter mess, and not give a shit? I nod in a mocking manner, to which he clicks his tongue. 'Y'know...you're gonna have to tell Jim about that dream, darlin'. I didn't wanna talk about it last night, considerin' what a state you were in...'

I nod, smile fizzling and brow furrowing. 'I know, I-' I swallow, frowning at the memory of Bates, slick with blood and all but confirming that he had murdered the other Doctors. There was so much _blood._ It couldn't have been a nightmare - it was too real. 'I don't know how I made you see that, I'm sorry-'

The arm closest to me twitches, as if he is about to touch me, but the moment breaks and McCoy withdraws into himself, his jaw clenching and his gaze flicking to the right. 'What have I said about apologisin', huh?' I watch him and crack a small smile, my back pressed against the wall, and watch as he swings himself off of the bed, discarding the covers to the side. I take in the sight of him in such relaxed clothes, once again bemused to be seeing the Doctor in such a way. 'I'm sorry again - for comin' into your Quarters like that-'

He turns to look at me, his features settling into the usual, guarded expression of the CMO of the Enterprise. I blink up at him, legs tucked beneath the covers, and shrug. 'I don't really care, in all honesty. I...I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to-'

'Darlin', I think we can safely say at this point we're friends. I _want to,_ and not 'cause I'm the damn CMO'. I don't quite know what to say to that, but I think my jerky nod and ruby red cheeks speak all that I need to say. McCoy nods, as if happy with this statement, and looks about the room. 'Jim wants us down to the Bridge by the time the Alpha shift starts at six. Get ready and I'll wait for you'.

I nod, already starting to clamber oh-so gracefully out of bed as Leonard goes toward the door.

'And June?' I look over to him, and his expression holds something serious, his shoulders tense. 'Me coming in here...it ain't exactly normal CMO stuff, sweetheart. Best to keep it between us'.

I grin. ' _Sneaky_ '.

McCoy rolls his eyes sky high and yanks open the door. 'You're a damn nightmare, woman'.

* * *

I don't think I'll ever get tired of the sight of the Bridge. It's _buzzing_ with activity; everyone so immersed in their jobs and moving in sync with one another. And the view...Well, I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at stars all day.

Leonard and I arrive side by side to the Bridge, the door swooshing open silently for us. I always felt a slight amount of trepidation being among the Bridge crew. Even Jim, who I liked, seemed that much more intimidating when he sat in that swivelling Captain's chair. That's where he sits now, Mister Spock standing dutifully on his right hand side.

He turns when we walk on, his eyes bright and his smile welcoming. 'Morning, Bones. June'. I nod in response, gaze flickering to the familiar faces I was starting to know. The Navigator and the Helmsmen, one of whom I had met, sat at the front of the Bridge, with others scattered about the Science Station, Comms Station, and others. I throw a look to my right, to where Lieutenant Uhura sat, her back to us. I never _did_ get to apologise to her.

Mister Spock turns also, back rigid and hands clasped behind his back. I nod to him, to which he returns the gesture. 'Morning,' I greet, stopping when McCoy does. My nerves were wired. Now that Jim knew everything, it was in his hands what we would do.

'What the damn verdict, Jim?' grunts Leonard, crossing his arms and staring down at his friend. 'Clion 2BA ain't gonna wait around for you-'

'Perhaps it could be suggested that we discuss this in your Briefing Room, Captain?' Spock says, cutting off the Doctor with a flicker of his gaze down to Jim. 'Doctor McCoy is not wrong-'

'I know I'm not wrong, so let me damn _talk,_ Spock-'

I try very hard not to roll my eyes. Jim does, standing as he does so. With a quick look over his shoulder, he tells the Helmsman named Sulu to take the chair, and begins to lead the way toward the room I was becoming quite familiar with, but not without smacking McCoy on the shoulder with a sly smile and a, 'C'mon, Bones. Miss your morning coffee, or something?'

The moment all four of us enter the room, I turn on Jim. 'What's happening with the planet - Clion?' The Captain settles himself at the desk, a steaming cup of coffee seemingly appearing out of nowhere in his hands. Spock rounds the table to stand at one corner, whereas Leonard stays close to the door, behind me. 'Are you Beaming back down today?'

Jim holds up his hand, eyes amused but serious. 'I've been in contact with the Heads of Starfleet,' he says. I stiffen. Jesus, I hadn't even thought of that. What would they _do with me?_ I needed to get to that portal, to find a way far away...But leaving seemed somehow more terrifying than staying, in that moment. 'They have insisted that I turn the Enterprise around, and that we make our way back to Earth and allow a neighbouring ship to take care of Bates. We're still at the beginning of our five year mission, so such a thing _is_ doable. It would take a week, tops, and that way you could get the justice you deserve'.

I try very hard not to walk to the table, reach across it, and fucking throttle him. 'And you told them that the only justice I need is going back to that bloody planet, helping _you_ make sure it doesn't blow up, and bringing Bates back to this damn _spaceship_ and, I don't know, trying to get _back_ to my time - right?'

The Captain pauses, leans back in his chair, and cocks a brow easily. 'Yes'.

I blink and sag. '...Oh'.

Spock steps forward then. 'Miss Adams, it is imperative that you understand the likeliness of this _portal_ you speak of being able to locate the precise time and moment in which you came to this Universe. It is unlikely that even the people that brought you here understood what it was capable of doing, and you are the product of that ignorance'.

I snort. 'Thank you'.

'I do not understand. I did not-'

' _Dammit_ , Spock,' grunts the Doctor, stepping forward to now stand in line with me. 'Jim, we understand what we have to do. All you've gotta do is give the orders and send a damn team down there to extract Bates and whoever the hell he's bothered to leave alive-'

' _What?'_ Jim snaps, blue eyes flitting from me to Len.I explain, my eyes downcast and my hands wringing as I relay the horrors of what I had seen, unsure whether they would believe me, or think I was completely bloody nuts. Jim looks over to McCoy. 'Bones - you saw this?'

'Clear as damn day, Jim. No doubt in my mind it was real-'

'If I may, Captain?' Mister Spock says then, turning to look at Jim who nods, before turning and facing me more fully. 'Miss Adams, are you familiar with the Vulcan Mind Meld?' I nod. It was something I had read up on, in my first few days here. 'I have spoken with the Captain, and with your permission I would find it helpful to use it on you. To better our understanding of what you know, and how you perceive your abilities, and to see this...vision that you have seen. I will not, of course, go forward without your permission'.

For some odd fucking reason, I look up to Leonard, whose brow is furrowed and jaw is set. 'It's safe, Spock?' he grunts, not looking at me.

'Quite, Doctor'.

'Do it,' I say, turning back to Spock. 'If it will get things going, and make you see...just do it'. _Make you see that I'm not a monster. That to a certain extent, I do understand this thing._

He steps forward again, and my heart starts beating a mile a bloody minute. I move away from McCoy, hesitant. Jim sits back in his chair, watching the exchange with high brows and clasped hands. I try very hard not to flinch with the Vulcan's cold hands find my cheekbones and forehead, my hands hanging uselessly at my side. _Breathe,_ I remind myself. You've seen far weirder things than-

 _I'm in the club. I'm listening to Dua Lipa. I'm flying, practically hurtling through space (and things are latching onto me, yanking at my mind and making me something new, something inhuman) and I land **here** , where I am now, in this time and in this Universe. My nose is bleeding and people scatter around me; Doctors in white coats and the woman. Maria. I can't move. I can't think. _

_I see **it** , as I lay on the ground and they surround me, congratulating themselves. I see the Portal. Grey and dark and swirling like a mass. It is a mere image imprinted in the back of my mind, and gone just as quickly._

 _I see what they did to me. Burning my skin and snipping at my hair and taking injections and making me sleep. I see Maria. I see her face start to change as realises how wrong this is._

 _I see their faces when I make the world shudder with my mind._

 _I see my parents; the memory of them beginning to feel further and further away._

 _I feel the nagging of **It** at the back of my mind as I stare at McCoy and the two men flanking him, my heart heavy and my mind whizzing. I let it come forward, the nagging and buzzing at the back of my mind, and watch as their eyes ink with red and their throats jump as they choke. I feel terror, pain - above all else, I feel relief because Leonard is safe._

 _I have murdered._

 _I see my dream from last night; Bates covered in blood and he is hurting people and I have to stop him and I have to close the portal and suddenly Leonard is there and I am awake, and he is crawling into bed with me and this is private, Spock, **go away-**_

I swear loudly and wrench myself away from the Vulcan, who merely drops his hand from my face and takes a solid step back. The chairs scatter, moving inches from their usual places (causing Jim to yelp and stumble to his feet) and the lights of the room flicker. With a shaking hand, I come up to realise that my nose is bleeding. 'Sorry,' I mutter, wiping at it desperately as Leonard reaches for my elbow and turns me around, hazel eyes studying my face with an intense glare and thumb coming up to wipe at the blood.

'You okay Spock?'

I turn away from McCoy to look at the Vulcan, who is staring at me with a shockingly calm look. Jim touches his shoulder, standing now, to which Mister Spock nods. 'I understand now, Captain,' the Vulcan muses, blinking slowly at me. He tilts his head. 'Your mind,' he tells me, to which I blink and try very hard not to turn red, as the three men look at me. 'Is different from that of any of Human I have come across-'

McCoy's grip drops from my elbow as he steps forward, hands moving animatedly as he growls out, 'Well, that ain't exactly tellin' us anythin' we don't know, Spock! She can move stuff with her damn _mind_ -!'

There's a sudden buzz, and Jim whips his Comm from his pocket with a distracted look and flips it open. He throws Leonard an exhasperated look that says _be nice,_ before speaking. 'This is Captain Kirk-'

'Keptin!' A voice, one of which I recognise to be that of Ensign Pavel Chekov, chirps out the other-side, laced with urgency. 'Keptin Kirk, I think you had better come to ze Bridge, sir. Clion 2BA...it is losing stability-'

'On my way'.

I wonder, as we follow Kirk to the Bridge after he grunts at us all to follow him, how a week ago I could have possibly been bored. _Unstable. The portal_ , I think, as we surge onto the Bridge with Jim marching forward, past the chair and to the screen where there was once a window looking out to the stars. I can just about make out what it is - a map of Clion 2BA. And there, to the West, there was a pulsing, red image.

'Sir,' the Russian turns around, and I hang back, behind Spock and McCoy. This was where they excelled, and I had to watch. 'Clion 2BA is currently experiencing an earthquake of massive magnitudes, sir. We have located ze source of ze power surge, as requested, and...'

Leonard steps close to Jim. 'It's where that damn bunker is, Jim'.

The Russian nods. 'Yes, sir. And-'

'Captain,' a brush of air whooshes past me as Nyota Uhura crossed my path to stand just in front of me, her ponytail swinging and her back straight as she addresses her Captain. 'I've just received a distress signal from Clion 2BA, sir. They are requesting aid - primarily on the Western side of the planet where the earthquakes are hitting-'

'And they'll get it'. Jim stares at the screen for a moment more, and I swear to God I'm not sure how everyone hadn't heard my heart banging in my chest at this point, and nods. 'Lieutenant Uhura, notify Lieutenant Commander Giotto to assemble a team of four Security to meet on the Beaming Deck. Mister Sulu, take the chair and answer any messages from Clion 2BA with that we are doing everything we can to figure this out, and that we will be out of Starfleet uniform to disallow any conflict with the neighbouring tribes. Spock, Bones - you're with me'.

He turns, before meeting my gaze. I stare back at him, trying to tell him in the simplest way possible that if he even attempted to leave me behind, I would find a damn way onto the surface of that planet.

'And you, Adams'.

* * *

I tug at the clothes that I had used the replicator to give me. It had only just been revealed to me that I could apparently be wearing far more than those terrible Starfleet issued black top and trousers. In the end, I decide on a dark denim jacket that is, shockingly, far too big on my 5'5 form, a long sleeved grey sweater, black jeans and the same black boots as before.

'-Set phasers to stun. We're getting this bastard out of there alive. He can answer to the courts-'

I'm shaking. Even as I stand on the Beaming Deck, surrounded by these experienced Officers and Ensigns, I am so suddenly terrified of what is about to happen. Yet, I know full well that I have to do this. I had seen what Bates could do - firsthand. If I could help in any way with figuring out the damn portal, _I would._ And maybe...maybe I would be going home. Maybe we could figure out how to use it and shut it. _And you would lose stars and space and a world where you can learn so many new things and make a life. Starfleet. Wouldn't that be so beautiful, June?_

Guilt swells within me, and I shake my head. There's no time to think like that. No matter how much it utterly baffles me, I was in this situation now. I was here to _help._ Those people had been thrust into this situation because I had been thrust into their lives...and no matter how much this _ability_ terrified me, I would use it if it would _let me control it._

'You alright, darlin'?' I look to Leonard, who stands by my side, a phaser tucked into his pocket. He wears a similar outfit to me, but with a leather jacket and dark, higher collar shirt. It seemed everyone had tried to go for a look that was everyday, rather than anything impressive. The Captain had informed us that we should remain hidden as much as could, and that Scotty was Beaming us down right near the bunker.

To _him_.

I nod, my smile wobbly. 'I just want to get to him before he can hurt anyone else'. Kirk continues to talk, Spock by his side, and I mutter lowly, 'I know you're a big scary Doctor with years of experience at Starfleet, but just...stay close to me, okay? I just...He knows that you mean something to me...and-' I rub at my red cheeks. 'If I can protect you again, I _will_ -'

'Sweetheart'. His fingers graze my elbow; his dark eyes sharp and his mouth a flat line. 'I'm man enough to admit that I _know_ you will'.

* * *

 **Let's give a big hoot for feminist, not afraid of a woman protecting him, Leonard McCoy. Okay. So I know this chapter was a little slow and short, but the next one is The One. It's the end of Part 1, so to speak. It's the end of June's Origin, and I am fucking pumped to write it. It's going to be heavily influenced by Stranger Things, remember. Anyway, please review! I think I would cry if we got to one hundred reviews!**

 **Thank you guys oxox**


	17. Heroes

_Though nothing, nothing will keep us together_  
 _We can beat them, forever and ever_  
 _Oh, we can be heroes just for one day_

 _I, I will be King_  
 _And you, you will be Queen_  
 _Though nothing will drive them away_  
 _We can be heroes just for one day_  
 _We can be us just for one day_

Heroes - Peter Gabriel

* * *

Part of me can't quite believe that I am back on this bloody planet again.

The air is tighter than it had been before; thick with warmth and a moisture that made it near suffocating. It was far stiller than it had been when Leonard and I had beamed back aboard the Enterprise just yesterday; the trees still and the sky clear. Sweat quickly moistens by brow as we materialise, and I wipe at my forehead, my stomach doing somersaults as I look around us.

Compared to last time, we had beamed into the thick of the forest, and not the open meadow. I look around, trying to see anything that looked familiar, but every tree and mossy log looked the same as the other.

'Captain, the map reads that the bunker is 300 meters this way. Shall we?' One of the Security team, a woman with short cropped bleach blonde hair and eyelashes for bloody days, says. Jim nods, phaser drawn and blue eyes sharp.

'Lead the way, Ensign'.

I try and mirror the others stances, keeping an eye on my surroundings and trying to inhale some of the training they'd had to make them so ready for this situation. _You can do this._ I needed to do this. For me. For the little boy who deserved a name other than _One._ For my family; who had been left behind and had died without knowing where their daughter had gone.

 _That could be rewritten. You could go back._

We walk through the crunching floor underneath our boots, the near deafening sounds of insects surrounding us. One of the Security team remains at the back of the group, all of their phasers drawn, whilst Spock and Jim walk in front of Leonard and I. The Doctor seems bitterly quiet, and I wonder how pissed off he was that he was being dragged back onto this planet.

I see it, then. The small clearing to the left, beyond a few dozen trees. There, just visible, was the hatch with the large log plonked over the top of it. 'There'. I point, and the ground team stops. 'Through the trees'.

'Let's go,' Jim says without pause, and we turn, making out way toward the hatch. We weave through the trees, and my heart becomes all the heavier in my chest. _Not too long ago, the most you had to worry about was using engineered organisms for chemical and pharmaceutical manufacturing. Now...now you're a walking bloody 80's Sci-Fi film._ 'Hanson, Williams - stay on the surface and flank the area. Evripidou - you're with us down there'.

Suddenly, we're standing dead in front of the hatch, and Jim is talking to the Security team, briefing them on what is about to happen. I look about at the dried mud beneath my feet, spying out the disturbed ground where Leonard and I had escaped the hatch just a few days ago. I swallow, fists clenched at my side, and look at the hardened mud. He was down there, somewhere. As was the portal that could take me home.

'June'. I jump and look to Jim, who peers at me with a serious look and kind eyes. 'You sure you're up for this?'

I nod without thinking, trying my hardest to look more sure of myself than I felt. 'Yeah. I'll help you as much as I can down there,' I tell him, praying that were the truth. I didn't know if this ability would work when I wanted it to, yet. Those pebbles moving in the cave...I wasn't sure if that was me, or the oncoming earthquake. 'Don't worry about me. Just focus on getting _him'._

Jim looks for a moment longer, before nodding. 'Spock?'

The Vulcan wastes no time in moving forward to help the Captain move the log, his apparent Vulcan strength making it look far easier than Leonard and I will have done. The Doctor in question stands next to me, and tucks his phaser into his belt. 'You stay close to us, alright?' he grunts, voice low so that no one can hear. I look up at him, brow furrowed, and he looks right back at me with unapologetic sternness. 'I'm well aware that you can look after yourself, but that sure as shit don't mean that you're not reckless as hell. You can't fix everythin' today - remember that'.

I try my very hardest not to stick my tongue out at him. 'I'll try,' I tell him. At his eye-roll, I shrug. 'Best I can offer you, Len'.

Something softens in his gaze, but the moment is broken when the long and screeching sound of metal shatters the buzzing of the insects. I snap to look at the hatch, which Mister Spock had single-handedly pulled open with one hand, his knees bent and his face blank.

Nerves threaten to make me throw up there and then.

'I'll go first,' Jim mutters, stalking forward after Spock looks down the dark hatch hole, before nodding in affirmation. 'Spock, you follow. Hanson, Williams, there isn't going to be any Comm signal down there. If we're not up within sixty to ninety minutes, alert the Enterprise. Set phasers to stun and stay hidden in the treeline'. With that, he throws a glance back to the rest of us, before clambering into the hatch hole and starting his quiet descent down.

Next is Spock. I move to go next, seeing as Jim never specified who would, but McCoy stops with a pointed cough and a sideways glance. 'I think _not_ '.

' _Dude_ -'

He ignores me, staring pointedly my way as he clambers into the hatch we had tried so hard to escape, his steps echoing against the metal ladder as he does so, his forehead wet with perspiration. I look to the Security Ensign, Evripidou, but he simply nods at me with a smile, and I go forward. My legs feel like jelly as I strain to keep myself composed as I clamber onto the ladder and begin my climb down, very aware that Leonard was just a few steps below me.

The air is noticeably colder and when I land with a quiet thud on the metal floor, I turn toward the three men. 'Well,' I mutter, as Ensign Evripidou begins his descent. 'I imagined something more dramatic'.

'Oh, he'll be in here _somewhere_ , alright,' mutters Leonard with disdain.

'Judging by the hatch, I'd say you two locked him and the others up in here pretty tight,' Jim muses, staring down the long, dark corridor. There was no sign of movement; nothing to indicate that there was anyone down here. It was eerie as _fuck._

'I concur with that observation, Captain,' muses Spock, phaser still drawn. 'Do we pursue forward?'

'Yeah,' agrees Jim with a grunt, glancing to myself, McCoy and the Ensign.

We push forward, and I try very hard to not be pushed to the back of the pack. Every creak or noise had my heart beating a mile a minute. I look round every corner - into every crevice of the corridor as we creep along it, my heart in my throat-

The earthquake hits, then, and it is far worse than any one Leonard or I had experienced.

I am pushed against the wall, hands flat against my shoulders and a chest pressed closed to mine as the word shakes in a manner that can't possibly be real. The shakes that I had felt before; they were _nothing_ compared to this. My feet slide on the ground, and the walls groans around us. It sounded like the whole world was falling apart. Jim yells for everyone to press themselves up against the walls, and with a quick look up, I see that it is Leonard who has shoved me back first against the cold, metal surface.

It calms down, eventually. The world stops shaking, and he pushes himself away from me with a meaningful look my way when I grab his arm, my words catching in my throat. I want to say thank you, but the adrenaline and how I am on the verge on wetting myself stop me. Rather than acknowledge it, he turns to Jim, ignoring me, and says 'My bet is, he's wherever that damn portal is that's makin' _that_ happen'.

Jim breathes heavily, glancing up and down the corridor as he pulls himself away from the wall. 'I agree,' he gasps. 'Is everyone okay?'

Still, I can't find it in me to make my damn voice work.

Spock, seemingly unruffled from the earthquake, stands as straight and serious as ever. With his ears tinged with green, he says, 'We must hurry, Captain. We do not know how much longer this planet has-'

That's reassuring. 'Here's to hoping the nutter knows how to close the thing, considering he opened it,' I mutter, pushing my hair behind my ears as we start walking again. Jim can only scoff in response.

'There's the spirit, June'. There's another loud groan and the ground shudders, almost like the whole complex was giving up on life, but it passes. We continue on, and all the while I'm wondering if I'm going to die the next bloody second. That's how things like this worked, right? A black whole portal type thing...I would just be sucked into it, not knowing what had happened-

A sound like some shitty Star Wars film shoots through the air, so atypical of the _pew pew_ sound of Sci-Fi films. We had found ourselves at a crossroads of corridors, and without having time to look toward the noise, I am yanked back by the scruff of my neck by Evripidou, the dark skinned and foreboding Ensign. I yelp and scramble back as the four men surge forward, flattening themselves against the wall as Jim shouts to stay back, peaking round the wall. Another bright light and the sound of a phaser flashes, and the Captain yanks his head back and blinks at Spock almost comically.

I stand behind the four of them, feeling useless without a phaser, chest heaving as a voice shouts, 'Doctor Bates requests the girl. _Two_. Give her to him and no one gets hurt, Captain Kirk-'

Part of me wants to push myself forward and let them take me. There was a chance that I could overpower him again. _They'll knock you out, idiot. What use will you be then? The whole world will collapse and your friends will die. Stop being a fucking martyr and use your brain._ I heave in a breath, my fingers shaking and my body alive with the feeling of _it._

No one looks back at me. None even consider the option. Jim turns to Spock and mutters something, to which the Vulcan nods. McCoy, for a just a moment, looks over his shoulder and past the Ensign to lock eyes with me, before going back to talk amongst the men. I catch certain words, such as 'how many' and 'go forward, I'll cover you'.

But I'm already giving into the buzzing, nagging feeling that had settled in the back of mind the moment the threat of the phaser had sounded.

I press my back against the wall as they're all distracted, my chest heaving and my palms flat against the cold, dark metal of the structure. I try and reach for _it_ , I try and understand this new sense that was sight, smell, touch and noise all wrapped into one. The moment I close my eyes, my mouth pressed shut and my breath coming fast out of my nose, everything seems to go quiet.

And I _feel._

I use the fear and the anger, and I wrap it around my fingers and open my mouth, a puff of air seeping out of me. The nagging at the back of my head jumps forward, until it feels like it is spreading. I let it. I welcome it forward and try to find a way to drag it to the front of my mind, where it can finally be useful.

And I _see._

My arm, which raises as if on its own accord, feels like a separate limb. For all I know, with my eyes closed, it could be. I breathe in, as even as I can, and the moment my arm is level, I _pull,_ my fingers clawing at air and my mind imagining a man in a black and a phaser and...I snap my eyes open and gasp the moment there is a loud shout and clatter, and the four men seem to stare in utter bemusement and confusion when a single phaser comes shooting down the corridor, clattering as it cascades across the floor to land in plain sight of us.

There is a beat of silence.

'Now!' Jim shouts, and he and the Ensign jump into the open corridor, phasers raised and shoot. The Ensign spins on his heel to look down the other length of the corridor, before nodding. 'All clear,' Jim says, lowering his phaser. 'He was bluffing. There was only him'. He welcomes Spock to his side, and suddenly four pairs of eyes flick toward me.

I wipe at my nose with the sleeve of my jacket, my head banging and all of my limbs feeling like jelly. I was giddy, horrified, bloody _bamboozled_ that _I had done that._ I used it - I _found it._ I was sure, without a doubt, that such a thing would be beyond difficult without the pull of the panic and need to protect, but I _did_ it. With a shifty look and pink cheeks, I mutter, '...Well, let's keep going then'.

Jim looks like he might laugh, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open, whilst Spock merely muses, 'Fascinating'.

'...Er, if you don't mind me asking, what the _hell_ was that, Captain?' Evripidou asks, his phaser still raised down the other hand of corridor as he looks over his shoulder to the Captain.

'I'll explain later, Ensign-'

It was, in those few seconds in which the Evripidou's gaze had been elsewhere, that a shot fires through the short calm, and catches him right in the head. I yell and jump back, just as Jim ducks and Spock raises his phaser, shooting into the distance as more yells sound. _There were more of them than I thought._ I stare, back into the corridor from which we had come, and the smoking and crumpled body of the man who had pulled me from danger earlier.

McCoy turns to me as Jim and Spock shoot, his hand coming out to grab at me as I stare at him, my nose still crusty with blood and my heart hammering my chest. He doesn't say anything, but merely pulls me forward into the line of fire. I wonder what the fuck he is doing for a second, but see that he's pulling me toward the corridor opposing to our one.

We duck and run, past Evripidou's body, just as Jim shouts, 'Bones, _go!'_

 _'No!'_ I shriek, stumbling with Leonard into the safety zone, as Jim and Spock duck with us. They crouch and breathe heavily, looking up at myself and McCoy as the latter begins to tug me back. I yank myself forward, as sudden quiet settles. They were waiting for us to make an appearance again...or they were coming. 'I can _help-'_ Could I? The nagging feeling seemed so far away now, with the muddled panic and the tiredness that came with what I had already done. I scramble to find it, but find nothing.

Jim goes to peak round the corner, but jumps back when a shot fires. 'Jesus, there's a lot more of them than we anticipated'. He turns to me. 'Find the damn portal, Adams. The others up top will have heard the shots - helps coming. Bones, go with her. If anyone can fix this, it's you. _Go'._

I want to argue, but I know full well that he's right. I'm no help here, not with the shots and the pace of it all - I couldn't use this stupid fucking thing that Bates had forced on me _here_. And I sure as shit didn't know how to use the damn phasers. I needed to find the portal - to see where _he_ was. He wanted to find me? Well, fuck it. I'd find _him_.

I comply with one last look, as McCoy and I turn heavily on our heels. 'I damn hate this,' he mutters, hand still curled around my wrist as we hurry down the dimly lit corridors. Shots echo behind us, and he grunts. 'Don't worry about Jim, sweetheart. He's taken on far worse than a couple dozen hired bodies-'

'Dozen? There what that many?' I yelp. 'Oh my _God-'_

Another earthquake hits, and part of me wants to point two middle fingers to the sky and tell it to _fuck off._ I don't, of course. I instead do what McCoy had done to me, and push him to opposing wall, whilst I settle on the other one. 'You know what?' I snap, pushing myself forward on uneven feet as the ground beneath me rocks. 'No time. We have to _go'._

For once, the Doctor agrees with me.

As we rush along, staggering like we're drunk, we stop as the corridor ends and cuts to a right angle. Leonard stops, pushing me behind him as I huff. He pauses to look around the corner, his phaser held to his waist. As he does so, I frown and try and catch my breath, my hands shaking. 'Did you know him - Evripidou?'

McCoy glances back at me. 'Barely,' he grunts, brow furrowed. 'Saw him in Sick Bay a couple of times. Good man'. With that, he takes just a moment to look back at me properly, his face a mixture of tension and frustration. 'He'll be honoured, sweetheart'.

I nod, not trusting myself to talk, and we carry on. We have no idea where we are going, cutting up corridors and checking that the coast is clear. A few times, we hear a scattering of footsteps and we push ourselves back, hunching to the ground and praying to fucking _God_ that we are not caught. When those moments come, Leonard turns to me and looks me dead in the eye, telling me with all his might, I think, that it was going to be okay.

It is when we are rounding another corner that something seems to hit me dead in the chest. I stop, gasp for a breath, and lean heavily against the wall. 'Holy fuckin' _Christ_ -' I mutter, my hand coming up to clench at the fabric of my shirt. My visions blurs and I blink hard. Leonard stops and turns, his stature half exasperated. The force of...whatever it was is gone quickly, replaced only by a low buzzing, like adrenaline and energy, that seeps into my very pores.

I blink, frown, and look around me. 'What?' snaps the Doctor. I ignore him, instead pushing myself forward and past him, nearly tripping over myself a couple dozen times as I do so. The buzzing tugs me - no, _yanks_ me forward. I know what it is, inexplicably. The feel of nerves and stars and the rush of wind through my ears - the portal.

We were close.

The air begins to get colder, like we were nearing a room far bigger than the corridor we had just hurried down. Leonard swears behind me, muttering something about being a Doctor and not babysitter. I, once again, ignore him, too intent upon finding what the hell was making my ears feel fuzzy and my carry my feet to wherever they wanted to go.

I stop.

Leonard stops.

'Holy hell...' the Doctor mutters.

It was a room - hell, a _cavern._ It seems to stretch skyward for miles, built into the very ground the bunker occupied. Before us, there were makeshift labs and computers scattered across the uneven ground, along with tables and wires. Lights were fixed into the ground and walls, and a wind seemed to whistle through the expanse of the place. Leonard and I stand back, where the metal of the corridor seemed to creep into the rock of the cavern, but that isn't what left the Doctor mystified.

It was the Portal.

It stood at the far left of the cavern, where the floor sunk away to a cliff edge that was wide and horrifying. It was like a crack in the air; a solid length and width that seems to stretch for miles, and yet nothing at all. It moved and swirled, an existence so separate from anything that could possibly exist here. I stumble forward, mesmerised by the sight of it.

And, all I think is, _home could be on the other side of that._

Another earthquake hits, this one furious and unforgiving, and I fall to my knees from the shock of it. Leonard staggers forward, pulling me up and shouting something in my ear that I don't hear. I'm too busy staring at it; at the way it shudders and moves and _stretches._ Above us, a large metal balcony with a runway toward the portal shakes with heavy clangs, and the stairs that lead up to various floors shudder with it.

And then I see him.

He walks forward, staggering and yet so oddly graceful at the same time, using the equipment surrounding him as support as he looks only at me. Leonard pulls me closer, his fingers curling around my forearm loosely, as I stare right back at the hollow and bloody Edgar Bates. The ground begins to even out, but the odd hissing and ripping noise that comes from the portal echoes around us.

'Two,' the man says, now a hundred meters from us. He smiles, his fingers dry with blood and white coat patched with brown. 'You came home'.

'I came to stop you,' I tell him. 'To stop _this'._ My voice cracks, and I pull from my arm away from the Doctor to trip forward, my chest heaving and my eyes watering. 'You're going to _kill this planet_ -'

Bates looks behind him, to the hulking, swirling mass of grey and black, as if he had not noticed it. 'Oh yes,' he says, his voice both quiet and loud. 'I am afraid we quite lost control of it. You see...the power that is shares with you...it is quite unpredictable, isn't it?' He tilts his head, now looking back at me. 'The others...they grew _afraid. They planned to flee._ I could not let them - they would tell of you, and you are mine, Two, aren't you? Even in the midst of the Starfleet ship you occupy, you know where you belong'.

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. The world groans, and clench my fists, my eyes filling with tears that I sincerely want to bugger off. 'I'm not,' I whisper.

It is then that I see them. Men dressed in the same black uniform all of his Security personnel seemed to wear. They come from doors around the cavern, all of them with their phasers draw and pointing at myself and Leonard. My stomach drops as I take a step back, feeling more more out of my depth than ever before.

'Silly girl,' the mad scientist trills. 'You were _nothing_ before me'.

 _I was a daughter. A friend. A cousin. A niece. A student. An engineer._ I was _someone_. I look at the portal, I _feel_ it _,_ before looking back at Bates. The cold blue eyes stare right back at me and I shake my head. 'I've never been nothing, you fucking _psycho-'_

'Bones!'

I am pulled backwards, arms coming to pulls me to the ground and shield me as phaser shots echo through out the cavern. My knees hit the floor heavily, before both myself and Bones are pulled back by yellow and blue and red and-

I blink at the faces of the two Security Jim had ordered to stay up top, as well as Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Chekov. Jim and Spock surge forward, shirts singed and bloody, as McCoy pushes me back, once a-fucking-gain, and begins to join his team in defending us. They shout to each other in greeting. We move, ducking behind the equipment as Bates runs out of sight, even as I try my hardest to push past the broad shoulders of Spock, who covers me, to find him.

The portal begins to spasm again, and Ensign Chekov, who covers Jim whilst he assesses the amount of men there are, shouts, 'Captain, vat is _zat?'_

'We'll explain later,' growls McCoy, coming up to shoot, before ducking again.

I crawl back and push myself against the wall, watching the lot of them with their backs to me as they shoot, and shout, and cover one another. The large monitor in front of us is enough cover, and I can hardly see who they are even shooting at anymore. Instead, I breathe heavily and look toward the portal, just partially out of view.

I see clarity, even amongst the hell surrounding me, and know what has to be done.

I don't think before I move. I don't even see if any of the men shooting at us see me. I know, without a doubt, they will have been given orders to not shoot me. It is an arrogant thing to think, I know, but is is the only shot I have. Bates is mad. He doesn't care if we live or die. All he cares about is if I am here, with him, because that is where he believes I belong, even with the planet dying. I'm not even sure that in his fucked up mind he even understands what the portal is doing, because he is just too far gone. We have no time - _none_ to figure out if there was anything we could do with the equipment before us to stop it from growing and killing this planet.

So, I run.

I hurtle into the open, not even stopping to look toward the opposing side of the cavern. My feet slam against the ground as I sprint toward the metal staircase, weaving through the equipment that sits in the No Mans Land between the two sides who shoot at each other. I hear distance yells, and guilt swells within me, but I somehow know that this is what I have to do. I have to _try._

 _I felt it. I can make it feel me._

I gasp, my fingers clenching at the railing of the stairs that lead up and up and my boots slam against the metal grated stairs. I pause, hanging on for dear life as the ground shakes again, but grit my teeth and force myself to keep going. Rocks fall from the cave above, scattering across the ground and leaving deafening sound in their wake, but I push forward.

The phasers shots continue below me, and I vaguely hear Bates shouting for me. I keep going, finding the next set of stairs and then the next, my chest burning the higher I go. _Keep going. Keep going_. Distantly, I become aware of the quietening of the world below me, and the sounds of scrambling. Had the Enterprise crew got everyone? They would have. The Security Bates had were nothing compared to them.

I pray for this to be true.

I stumble to stop when I reach the final platform, which leads onto onto the shaky, metal grating of the cat-walk. The world seemed so much different up here; a lifetime away from those below me. The portal swirls before me, grey and dark and a mass of something that was _part of me._ I clench the railing as I trip forward, my energy buzzing, my mind tugging, and the burning in chest and legs nearly sending me to the floor.

Distantly, I hear the shouts of McCoy. I can't listen - I _can't._ I have to do this. I know, now that I have laid eyes on the swirling mass of grey and black that extends the whole height of the cavernous, cave-like room, that if it made me, and I can destroy _it._ Something inside of me says so, and I can't bother to try and understand it right nagging in the back of my head is no longer something separate; it is a tingling at my fingers, a buzzing within my mind - it's as much part of me as I am with it.

I walk forward, more sure of myself than I have been in weeks; _years._ That does not, of course, stop every inch of me from shaking in terror.

The cat-walk sways, and I wonder how often Bates had stood upon this high balcony that extended beyond the floor where the others stood, and over the impossibly deep and bottomless edge. It sways only slightly, supported from the ground and the ceiling. How often had the man who brought me here stared into the swirling, cloudy and oddly blinding depths of this portal, waiting for someone like me to emerge?

Not again. Not to _anyone_ else.

The air shakes, and the portal seems to crack and shake and _spin,_ like the air itself was trying to swallow the planet whole. I hear shouts below me, as the newly arrived Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Uhura yell to the Captain, trying with all their might to figure out how to close the portal with the foreign computers and instruments in the lab below. Ash seems to be falling from the portal, making the air hot and red. How had the scientists who brought me here even opened this thing - it was an accident, obviously, but how could they be so _stupid?_

It seems to groan, and the railing shakes as the planet is wracked by yet another earthquake. The portal cracks, spreading and looking like something I have never, ever seen; will never see _again._ It spasms, the mouth of it stretching and reaching. I grab onto the railing, my heart hammering and my skin shaking and sparking and feeling like a million nerves with wired beneath my skin-

I can't go home. I _know_ that now. If saving the lives of these people...of this planet...if that meant not going home, I know for a fact my family would understand. They would never know what happened to me...And I would never say goodbye or hello or _I love you_ to them ever again-

But I had to do this.

 _'June!'_ Leonard's footsteps bang against the stairs to me, but I ignore him. I _have_ to. They don't understand. It's not their fault; they just didn't see the...weird, horrible connection that I have with this portal. _I can close it._

Finally, I raise my hand, my fingers shaking, and focus only on what I want to do.

The baggy sleeve of the jacket, which I had rolled up, falls loose around my arm. I gasp, my breath choking, and take another step forward until my other hand hits the railing where the balcony ends. Everything seems oddly quiet as I look into the swirling mass; the physical and yet entirely not-solid Portal. The... _it..._ it surges through me, and I can only imagine that this is what being struck by lightening feels like. The utter and complete raw power of it seems to hit the tips of my spread fingers.

Ash vibrates around my hand, and I wince, my fingers straight and my forehead dripping with sweat. _Harder. Push harder._ I do, my chest heaving and my back straight and my hands stretched out as far as it can go as I push and push and push the power forward, harnessing and understanding the ability that had been thrust upon me with far more appreciation.

'Adams!' The shout echoes form below, and I know that it is Jim. 'June! Get _down-_ '

I grit my teeth harder and tilt my head forward with determination, my eyes stinging and my fingers bent and shaking. The portal seems to work all the harder, spanning and cracking as if it had a mind of its own; as if it was fighting back.

It reaches forward, the grey of the portal swirling toward me; toward the only thing it could recognise with similar power. Me.

 _I see cracks of memories. My home. My time. I feel the invasive experience of being pushed to this universe. I feel the numbers being etched onto the back of my neck. Two. Two. Two. I see my mother and my father, basked in the weak English sun and their smiles a memory only, now. I see the Enterprise. I see the vision of a man who looks so curiously like Leonard McCoy and a woman who looks so curiously like me. Older. **Different.** I see the blue, tall people of Clion 2BA, so innocent and not part of this. I see Jim. I see Mister Spock. I see the people who have helped me._

 _'You were nothing before me'._

 _I have never been nothing._

 _I see myself sitting in the dark and dank room of the Chronos, my face wet with tears and Maria Atwood sits before me. I am loopy with drugs, and I know that I will not remember this. She has told me as much. She tells me that she will get me out of here; that she is working on a way to free me from Bates, and that she is so sorry she brought me here. She doesn't want this to be the end of me._

 _'I remember the words you told me, June. Do you remember? I am sure you don't. The drugs make you forget a lot...But they helped me understand you, you know that? They helped me see that despite my wrongs, I can fix what I have done to you. For a star to be born,' she tells me, kneeling in front of me. I am drugged and tired, but I know, after all the interactions we'd had, I could trust this woman. 'There is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse._ _So collapse._ _Crumble._ _This is not your destruction._ _This is your birth'._

 _'June,' she says, reaching for me with wet eyes and pale cheeks._ ' _ **This is your birth**_ '.

It is with that I push with all my might and wrench the hand that grips the railing upward, mirroring my other hand as I spread my fingers toward the portal, thrusting it forward with all my might. The scream that bursts from my throat is pain and anguish and separate from me; almost inhumane. I feel the blood and taste it, as it drops from my nose and around my lips, coppery and warm. The feel of _it_ is like weightlessness; like pins and needles and five-hundred red bulls and power - raw, unconstrained power. The portal cracks, retreating in on itself as the swirling grey scatters away from me, meeting the power that I push forward like a glass wall.

It is with only a part of my brain that I realise the weightlessness is a product of my feet no longer touching the ground.

In that moment, I feel as if I am no longer human. I understand what Spock had meant. I'm me, still - useless and clumsy and thinking I am far funnier than I am, but I'm something more. Something that he made me. _But I will make myself from here. I'll save them - it's what's right._ Time seems to stop, and I seem to stop with it.

There is a crack, and the portal retreats and moves and spasms until it is gone. The grey and black swirls dip into darkness, and the energy whooshes from my body like the wind. My fingers relax, and my arms fall to my side, and I fall, my eyes sinking shut and my mind screaming for me to sleep, to stop, to lie down. _You've done it,_ it was saying. _Now rest. They're safe._

The last thing I feel is my body hitting the metal grating, and arms pulling me backwards.

* * *

 **So...I sincerely hoped this lived up to expectation. Please don't think June is now suddenly gonna be whipping out her powers left right and centre. I'm really trying to highlight in this chapter that it is because of her emotions, and the situation that she is in, that they are working so well. It's gonna take a long damn time until it becomes as easy as walking to her.**

 **I'm quite excited to be moving on, now. I can focus on relationships, on June's story arc, and her life in the future. I really, really hope you guys liked this. I've been wanting to write this chapter forever. Please, please, please review! It would mean the world to me bc I worked my arse off on this chapter.**

 **Also I just prefer this version of Heroes for this chapter. Bowie is still my fave version ever!**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviews and favourites and follows!**


	18. (I Just) Died in Your Arms

_Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight_  
 _It must've been something you said_  
 _I just died in your arms tonight_

(I Just) Died in Your Arms - Cutting Crew

* * *

 _Part 1_

* * *

She weighs _nothing_ in his arms.

He knows she is small; with her damn glare pointing _up_ at him whenever he says something particularly sarcastic to the English, red-haired woman. Small, he knows, but with curves and muscle that he glares pointedly away from. She is not skin and bones, June Adams. She's strong. She's solid. She is small, but one might almost forget it upon meeting the damn woman.

Then why does she weigh _nothing,_ even whilst unconscious?

He has no time to look at the cavernous, blackened wall where that damn portal had once been. He has no time to shout back to Jim's orders for him to reply. He has no time to do anything, because June is not responding to his hurried, growling demands for her to _wake the hell up._ He turns her in his arms from where he had caught her when she had fallen (and her feet had _hovered_ above the ground and her arms had been outstretched but, _dammit_ , he _can't_ think on that now) and cradles her in a way Leonard is quite sure she would hate.

June did not like being seen as weak. It is one of the things he had admired her for, and resented her for. The woman was too damn proud for her own good.

He peers at her and shakes her lightly, trying to get her to wake up. It is only then that he begins to consider the fact that there was truly something wrong with her. Her hair is an utter disarray, but when was it not? There is blood crusting from both of her nostrils; thick and with far more resolve than he had ever seen before. Her eyes are closed, with dark lashes pressed against pale, _white_ cheekbones.

'Dammit,' he mutters, as the metal grating beneath them creaks and grinds. 'June?' he growls, fingers pinching forward, as he places two fingers between the bone and the tendon of her wrist, over her radial artery. His stomach clenches when he realises, after calculating what her beats per-minute are, that June Adams is in a very, _very_ bad state.

He cannot _think_ about what he has just seen her do. He cannot even think about how pissed off he is that she had run away like that – straight in the danger of the fight. He cannot even think about her pale cheeks and her dry lips and the blood that coats that darn pretty face – no, Leonard McCoy is a damn Doctor, and that's what he is going to be.

This girl – this brilliant damn woman who just saved all their lives…she was not going to die. Not on his watch.

He shouts for Jim as he lumbers to a stand, June's arm thrown over his shoulders and her boots dragging uselessly against the metal grating. She moans, pitiful and quiet, and he lurches to look at her, her name on his lips.

She responds with nothing.

He is halfway down the structure when Spock joins him, Jim just a few steps behind him. The damn Vulcan says nothing as he marches forward with a blank face, despite his ruffled appearance, and joins Leonard in holding June's other side with a strength that Leonard will always envy a certain amount.

Not that he would ever tell the damn First Officer that.

'Bones,' Jim chokes, walking in front as he hobbles down the steps (Leonard will have to check that later). He staggers forward as Spock takes most of June's weight, and strains to look at Jim. He knows that there is worry on his close friends face, and he knows that Jim would never forgive himself if anything happened to June. Nor, he knew, would he. It was he who had insisted she join them. 'Are you okay?'

He wants to shout at Jim, as June's head lolls against his shoulder. Was _he_ okay? June was unconscious – she had just done something that would have taken every inch of her energy, let alone even _thinking_ about what toll the damn abilities had really taken on her. Still, as he and Spock descend one more step, supporting the dead-weight of her, Leonard realises that his breath is _very_ short, and his head feels _very_ light.

Perhaps that was why Jim had asked.

It didn't damn matter. June needed his help. He was CMO, and he owed this woman. _An eye for an eye._ She saved his life, and he would sure as shit save hers.

'I'm fine, dammit,' he growls, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of Chekov, Uhura and the Security Ensigns when they finally reach the uneven ground where many of the bodies of Bates' Security team lay. The man in question had already been handcuffed and pushed to the ground, and now sat with a bloody nose and a swollen eye between the red-shirts. 'She's not in good shape, Jim-'

Jim turns, then, his eyes wide and his mouth opening as if the tone of Leonard's voice alerts him of the fact that June was not _just_ unconscious. Leonard knows full well that Jim cares about every person that steps foot on his ship, and feels almost bad for insinuating that he did not. ' _What_ -?'

'I fear Doctor McCoy is correct, Captain, and though we may all have questions regarding what had just transpired, Miss Adams needs to be beamed aboard the ship and treated _quickly'._ Perhaps it was the slight strain at the end of Spock's sentence as he adjusts his grip on June, or perhaps it was Nyota stepping forward to place a hand on the Captain's shoulder, but everything snaps into place, then. Jim straights and barks for everyone to ready themselves and gather the mad scientist of whom Leonard is trying very hard not to look at.

Leonard almost wants to thank the Vulcan.

He doesn't.

They hurry, June feeling lighter and lighter in McCoy's arms. He makes everyone stop every so often, leaning around to touch her cheek and attempt to gain a reaction from her. Her pulse, he finds, feels weaker every time he reaches for it. She looks so small and so grossly unlike herself (and the self he had just seen, with her fingers parted and her scream echoing around the cavern and, dammit, the woman was too brilliant, powerful, _dazzling_ to leave him now).

It makes his stomach seize, and it makes Jim's voice raise just a little but louder as he orders the ground team (the Security, as well as the confused but determined Uhura and Chekov) to rush forward and alert the Enterprise that a beam up would be needed ASAP, as well as a Medical team waiting. Leonard could see, as the end of the long corridor, was the light from the hatch door.

Bates, who had continued to say nothing, trips backward as he stares at his little creation; the woman who he assumed so entirely to be his. Leonard and Spock support her, and as the others gather themselves and push the prisoner toward the hatch ladder, the Doctor grins with blood staining his teeth. 'Isn't she a marvel, gentlemen?'

Leonard is quite sure that if his arms hadn't of been full of June, he would have marched forward to break the damn mans nose.

Jim orders for Security to beam the man aboard and take him straight to the Brig, all the while snapping for Bates to shut the hell up. Leonard was well aware that whilst Jim was friendly and a brilliant Captain, he was entirely unforgiving when those he cared about or considered his responsibility were threatened. In his years at the Academy with Jim, Leonard had known this, but it had only been illustrated to its full extent a year ago, with Khan. When Leonard had been forced to bring his best and closest friend back from the dead.

'Lieutenant Uhura,' Jim says, still bloody and bruised and walking with a limp. The others had left, Bates with them, and all that was left was Uhura and Chekov. 'Alert Starfleet that I will be in contact with them within the hour, will you? And that we have successfully captured Edgar Bates'.

She nods, throws a final look toward June, and then to Spock, and hurries along with Chekov at her heels. Neither ask questions, almost as if they know their Captain will fill them in on what they need to know later. Leonard will never quite admit it, but he knows that the crew trust Jim just as he much as he does: with their damn lives.

They move to go forward, so damn close to getting out of here. 'We're close – how is she, Bones?' It is there, just a few feet away from the ladder that he and June had scrambled up just days before, that he feels a final, weak puff of warm air against his cheek. He is not sure what it is, perhaps Doctors intuition, but a yank of something at the back of his mind that feel so suspiciously like _her_ cracks away.

And it makes Leonard McCoy's heart freeze in his chest.

Spock opens his mouth, perhaps feeling the sagging of June's already weak form, barely a word coming out before Leonard is spinning around and ordering June to be lain to the ground, his heart hammering and mouth drying and, shit, she can't die like this. Not in this damn place; the one that was her _prison_. She didn't deserve that – not _June Adams._

He feels for her pulse and swears loudly when he finds that there _is not one._

Spock and Jim stand back, offering only their silence as they watch the Doctor do what he can in such a situation. They know the drill; they have seen it many times before: stabilise the individual in need and get them aboard the Enterprise as soon as possible. Nearly all of the time they would turn out fine; he was Doctor McCoy. No one died under his care. Still, he feels so damn scared because, well, he tries _very damn hard_ to keep the circle of people he gave a damn about small. Turns out, June had snuck her way into the circle.

Leonard crouches beside her, his knees flat against the cold floor of the bunker and feels for June's wrist, finds nothing again, and growls. It is with one look at her face (pale and bloody and still and so unlike her), that Leonard McCoy finds himself, in a haze of panic and shock, promising June Adams that he won't let her die in this place.

'Not here, darlin',' he mutters, placing the heel of his hand over the centre of her chest, his other hand coming on top of this one. He uses all the weight in his upper body to compress her chest, his forehead wet with beading's of sweat and her skin still _warm_ through the fabric of her clothes. He does it again and again, his own heart beating hard in his ears.

On the other side of her, Spock lowers slowly to a crouch.

Leonard puts his palm over her forehead (cold and clammy) and gently tilts her head back, his breath coming in short puffs and his agitated growls of frustration sounding distressingly like whines to his ears. Then, with the other hand, he lifts her chin forward. Her lips look dry and her cheeks seem paler, and Leonard McCoy wastes no time in leaning down to press his dry lips to hers.

And so, Leonard breathes into June, and he will only realise hours later that part of him had been thinking that he half expected her lips to touch his in quite a different manner.

Her chest moves. He feels it beneath his hand. Still, he draws away, pumps at her chest, and repeats the action. Jesus, how much strain had she put on herself for her damn heart to stop beating? How could the stupid damn girl have sacrificed herself like that; like she was _nothing_? He had wanted to _throttle_ her the moment she had sprinted across the floor, where phaser shots reigned, and gone up those damn stairs like the reckless, brave woman she was.

Now...now he just wanted those green eyes to _open._

He is vaguely aware of Jim moving and talking into his Comm, ordering more Security to be sent down and collect the fallen enemies in the bunker and for Medical to _be ready and when could they get beamed up, Scotty - find a damn signal, then! We can't move her!_ Leonard, as he breathes into June's mouth again, becomes fully aware that the world was a terrible place. What did she deserve, after everything she had been through, to die in this hole in the ground on some Class M planet that had held them hostage for days?

'Bones-'

He ignores Jim, though he knows what Jim was going to say. He had heard the Comm. They needed to move. Scotty was close to grabbing their signal. With one last push against her chest, he leans forward and breathes-

She shudders beneath his fingers, her chest raising sharply as her body spasms, a cough catching in the back of her throat. Leonard stares down at her as she does so, pulling June into an upright position, and Spock is telling him that Scotty will be able to beam them up if they move closer to the hatch door, but Leonard is so entirely wrapped up in the way that June breathes-

For the sparsest of moments, her green eyes flutter open and he stares into them, eating up every aspect of them-

And, for the sparest of moments, he feels a flicker in the back of his head.

'Bones, bring her here, they're close to getting our signal, we have to-' He already is, and Spock helps him in pulling the raggedly breathing June to her feet. Her eyes have slipped shut again, but Leonard knows that she will be okay. She was awake. She was breathing on her own. He just _needed_ to get her to his damn Sick Bay.

She was going to be _alright._

* * *

 _Part 2_

* * *

The first thing that I feel is, well, _nothing._

I could almost be waking up in my room at home, the home where my parents lived. I always loved those mornings, after just getting back from University, where I felt clean and comfy in the safety of my room, and far away from the scummy, liver-harming lifestyle of Uni. For just a moment, I mistake the bright lights for the sun streaming through my lilac curtains. I mistake the beeping around me for the oven timer going off downstairs, where my dad cooks and my mum attempts to help. I mistake the clean feel of the sheets beneath my fingertips as the ones my mum would have cleaned in anticipation of my arrival home.

Consciousness begins to ebb into my mind then, and I know none of this to be true.

My eyes flutter open, feeling heavy and dry, and I know that the lights are that of the Enterprise, I know that the beeping is the machine above me, and I know that the white, medical sheets that I lie upon have never been touched by my mother. My mother, with the same red hair as me, but taller and far more dainty than I will ever be. My father, who I will no longer smell cooking, with his dark hair, scruffy beard and voice that shouts even when he tries to whisper.

I swallow, and my mouth works slowly and lazily, almost as if I am drunk. I don't _feel_ drunk, though. I feel very little of anything, and I half wonder if the one clear, plastic wire lodged into my left arm is the cause of that. I feel paralysed, but when I try to twitch my fingers and move my legs, I know that it is just utter exhaustion.

I look left and right, spying out a chair edged close to my bed and curtains that are drawn tightly around me. I was _alive_. It's the first time I even consider this fact. I had not died on Clion 2BA, and for this to have happened...The planet had not been sucked into the portal. The world had not ended. The others must have lived, too.

 _Then why did I not feel immense relief?_

Of course, I know why. Because, all of a sudden, I am no longer feeling nothing. I am feeling grief that I never thought I would feel in my life. It is so deep, and so sudden, that my heart thumps and my throat constricts almost painfully. _I am not going home._ It is only then that I realise, no, this thought had not ever occurred to me before. I had been living in a kind of limbo in which there was a chance of this happening, no matter how little I tried to think on it.

The reality is thrust upon me now, as I lay alone in the Med- Bed with whatever injuries I had gained now numb from drugs. Thoughts whirl through my mind as I stare up at the white ceiling, noting the silence around me, and try to calm my breathing. I was never going to see my family again. I would never smell my fathers cooking. My funny, loud and _so_ caring father. Nor would I be told how much I looked like my mother. My strong, beautiful, so _vastly_ intelligent mother.

I clasp a hand around my mouth, clench my eyes shut, and breathe in deeply.

How could I exist in a world where they did not? How could I live here, in this foreign place where nothing really made sense? What would I _do?_ I was alone; completely and entirely alone.

I suppose, really, it is fitting that with that thought in mind, the curtain tugs open and a blank faced Leonard McCoy appears on the other side. He was decked out in his usual blue Medical uniform, his complexion clean and his hair perfectly styled. With my eyes watering and my mouth clamped shut, I squint and realise that perhaps I had been asleep far longer than I initially thought.

He blinks when he sees me, before his shoulders sag and his mouth twists into a half-sardonic, half-kind smile. Something, I'm sure, only _he_ could pull off. 'Woken up finally, huh?' he murmurs, not acknowledging the tears in my eyes or the wetness of my cheeks. He approaches the bed, flips his PADD onto the table next to the chair, and looks down at me. 'Does anything hurt?' I shake my head, to which he relaxes a little more. 'Good. I cut down your dosage by half over the last day. Your levels seemed fine, and the tricorder wasn't showin' any signs of trauma-'

'Did everyone get out okay?' I choke out, my hands falling either side of me. I was too tired to hide my tears. The man had seen me in _enough_ damn states. Who gave a shit anymore?

He stops fiddling with the wire attached to my arm for a moment, his gaze away from mine, before continuing and tugging the tube free from my skin. I look down to see a small bead of blood rise, but Leonard swipes it away with a sterile tissue that smells like lemon. I look back up at him, only to see that he is staring solidly at the blood on the tissue, which he holds between his still hands. It wasn't hard to see that his form was rigid.

' _Leonard_?' I push, my voice stronger with the panic that wells inside of me. 'Did everyone-'

'You died,' he tells me, looking up at me finally. His hazel eyes, which I was so very used to by now, held an accusing, angry glare in them that shuts me the fuck up. My mouth goes dry as I snap it shut. _Oh._ I don't know what to say to that. He swallows sharply, still glaring down at me. 'I had to _resuscitate_ you in that damn bunker, June'.

 _Oh._

Still, I don't know what to say. With drying tears on my cheeks, I lay there uselessly and stare up at him, feeling like a very pointless lump underneath the Medical sheets. _I had died._ The information doesn't surprise me as much as it should have, I guess. I was alive now. What did it matter? Clion 2BA was okay. We had all saved it. I open my mouth to reply, but he speaks again, his tone sharper.

'I've spent enough _damn_ time bringing people I care about back from the brink. There's only so many damn times I can do that, Adams'. Leonard stares at me for a moment longer, his jaw tight and his gaze accusing and unblinking, before turning away sharply. 'You've been out of it for two days, in case you were wonderin'. Everyone got out damn _fine._ We...' He looks back at me, back straight and face a wrinkle of agitation. 'We have Bates in the Brig. We're on our way to Earth at a slow speed, as to not alert the crew. You...You closed the portal'.

 _Gone. Forever._ 'I know'. I nod, my throat tight, and look away. 'I'm sorry you had to do that, I-'

He cuts me off. 'Good,' Leonard replies, sharply. 'You can't be throwin' yourself into danger, not even if you know you can save yourself. What Bates did to you - what you can _do..._ We haven't got any damn clue the toll it can take on you, June'. I look back up at him, my brow crinkled. _Of course._ I had closed the portal - the others must have seen what I had done. It terrified me; to know there was that much _power_ inside of me. Sometimes, it really didn't feel like it. 'Not that any of what I'm sayin' will make a damn difference, of course'.

At that, I want to smile, but my face just doesn't seem to want to comply. 'Thank you,' I tell him.

He stares down at me, fingers twitching my his side. 'You save my life, I save yours,' he replies, a half shrug twitching at him. I blink up at him, my chest rising and falling and the beeping beside me steady. 'Jim...he wants to talk to you about what happened...about what's _going_ _to happen_ -'

I nod, swallow, and clench my fists at my side. 'I guessed,' I reply, trying very hard to swallow the thickness of my voice as I think of what I had lost. 'I...I guess I live in this universe now, huh?' _It could be worse,_ I think. _You could be dead. Hell, even if you had fallen through that Portal and tired to go home, all of them would have died. You would have never been able to live with yourself._

Leonard's fingers twitch again, and finally his arm raises, his fingers inching toward my cheek. I am both mortified and not surprised at all that such an embarrassing thing would happen to me, when the beeping of my heart monitor raises somewhat, slowly but noticeable to me. And, most likely, a damn Doctor. His warm, steady fingers land on my right cheek, and I reach up without even thinking to touch the back of his hand, my mouth drying when one of his fingers brushes to wipe away at the wetness of my skin.

'Don't ever wanna see you like that again, sweetheart,' he mutters, brow drawn tight and hand warm beneath mine. Very gently, his hand twists away from wiping at my tears to instead links his fingers with mine and settle our joint hands on my stomach, his thumb coming to rub at the back of my hand. Above us, the lights flicker, and Leonard's hazel gaze flicks upward, before coming back down to land on my face. The heart rate monitor speeds up to a pace which is pretty bloody hard to ignore. When he cocks a brow, I swallow and glower.

'Bugger off,' I choke, voice still thick with tears and face burning an amount I am sure he can't miss. Despite the words exchanged and the heaviness between us, he manages a slight scoff and a quirk of his lips, his fingers tightening around mine as his eyes flicker to mine again-

'Bones-' The curtain where Leonard had entered is yanked open, revealing the tidy looking Captain James T. Kirk, his hair perfectly styled and his appearance a hell of a lot better than it has been last time I had seen him. He blinks and stops short as Leonard steps calmly away from me, his hand dropping to his side. I, in return, let my hand flop to my lap and blink at the Captain, my eyes red and my cheeks wet and, well, fuck it. Could this situation get any more damn awkward? Jim blinks, opens his mouth, closes it, and then manages a, 'June. You're, er, awake'.

Despite my terrible appearance and the thickness of my voice from crying, I snipe back quickly. 'Thank you, Captain Obvious'.

'Still maintaining that wit, I see,' Jim returns drily, the awkward air gone as he steps behind the curtain and yanks it shut behind him. 'How are you feeling? You had us all worried. Some more than others,' he inquires, standing at the end of my bed whilst throwing Leonard a pointed sideways looks. I push myself further into the pillow.

I tell him I feel fine. The drugs were beginning to dwindle out of my system, and other than a banging headache and an aching in my right foot, I felt better than I would have expected, considering the fact that I had bloody _died._ 'I'm sorry if I, er-' I struggle for the words, my fingers gripping at each other on my lap. ' _Scared_ anyone-'

Jim snorts, those dazzling eyes kind and reassuring as he looks down at me. ' _Scare_ any of us? Chekov can't stop talking about it. You're going to have to bat him away a few times, I think. Kid thinks you're some badass superhero-'

I swallow a smile, as Leonard interjects with a sharp hum and a, 'Kid's got a type'. Jim throws his best friend another pointed look, and the Doctor shifts next to me. I, in return, try to sit up a little, sick of feeling like a useless lump in front of the two men. That is until the Doctor spins round, and I jump to look up at his sharply raised eyebrow and wide eyes. 'The hell d'you think you're doing?' he snaps.

'Sitting...up...?'

'Bones-'

'Lay _down,_ woman _-'_

 _'I am fine,'_ I stress, swiping away his hands and pushing myself into a sitting position. My legs felt like dead-weight after so long of being horizontal, and I have a mighty need to down a good pint of water. 'Jim,' I start, glowering at the Doctor when he grumbles at me. 'Leonard mentioned that we are on our way to Earth - what's happening?'

'Whilst I would have preferred to be the one to tell you that,' the Captain points out, with no real malice. 'We are, yeah. We have Bates in our custody, and we need to deliver him to Earth. Also...' He trails off, looking at me with an intense look, before sighing. 'He's going to have a trial, and you're going to have to speak, June. It's the way these things usually go. We found the bodies of the other Doctors, all of them were dead...Starfleet...they're going to want to meet you-'

Something twists inside of me, and I blink. 'They're not locking me up like he did'.

Jim furrows a brow. 'No, of course-'

'They're not going to shove wires in me and see what I can do-'

'June'. Leonard's hand lands on my shoulder, and I turn to glare up at him. 'That's not what Jim's sayin', darlin'. You've got...look, you're showin' _pretty damn_ obvious signs of psychokinetic and telepathic abilities. Starfleet just wants to see if you're alright. There's only so much _I_ can do to help you-'

'And then what?' I ask, though I don't really know why I asked the question at all. 'I'm stuck here now, aren't I?' And that was the question. What was I to do in this universe, now? I was an Engineer but, here, I would have to learn from scratch. Where would I live? The Enterprise...it would leave again, I was sure, and with it would go everyone I had become familiar with.

Leonard would leave, too.

I shake my head. 'I want to see _him_ '.

Jim, who had been staring at me with an annoyingly pitying look, blinks comically and straightens up, his gaze jumping form myself to Leonard. 'June, I don't think that's a very good-'

I huff, already yanking the covers off of me. Thankfully, I was dressed in the similar soft, papery clothes as before. For a moment, I wonder who had undressed me. 'I don't care-'

'June, dammit, you were _dead_ a few days ago. Ya can't go runnin' around the damn ship-'

I sniff, stretching my legs along the bed and wiggling my toes, trying to get some life back into them. 'I wan't planning on _running,_ Leonard. Jesus. You're dramatic-' He goes to push me back to the bed, but I prod his hands away with an affronted look. 'He's been asking for me, right?' I ask, turning to Jim with a raised brow as Leonard flicks away my fingers.

The Captain, who looks both amused at the battle of hands between myself and Leonard and worried for my health, clears his throat. 'Well, _yes_ -'

'Well, _there_ we go,' I settle, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and clambering uneasily to my feet. Leonard growls, swears, and comes to round the bed. Jim, I see, is hiding a smile behind a clenched fist. I swipe away the Doctors hands when he comes to aid me, despite the fact that my feet feel numb and my head is rushing from standing up too quickly. 'I'm fine,' I say, quietly, looking up at the Doctor and losing my earlier snark. 'I need to do this, Len. Please'.

He stares down at me, his face the image of frustration and annoyance, before sighing. 'You're a damn liability, woman'.

'I _really_ do know,' I tell him, the picture of sincerity. 'Whilst I cannot thank you enough for saving my life, I need to see Edgar Bates'.

* * *

 **Yooooo. I hope you guys liked this! I really wanted to split it, so we can see Leonard's reaction a little more. You will get a lot more of June's sadness next chapter, as well as some crew and the trip to Earth. I'm really looking forward to the next few chapters. After those, well, I think we're in for a few time jumps. You'll see!**

 **Thank you so, so, so much for everyone who had reviewed! We've made it past 100! I am so happy, and apparently nagging does get you somewhere.**


	19. The Wind

_I listen to the wind_  
 _To the wind of my soul_  
 _Where I'll end up, well, I think_  
 _Only God really knows_

The Wind - Cat Stevens

* * *

As it turns out, the throbbing in my ankle was a product of when I had fallen. We were yet to talk about the fact that I had fucking defied gravity, closed a portal to multiple dimensions, and fucking _died_ \- that could wait, for now. All I wanted at the moment was to come face to face with Edgar Bates. I insisted that Leonard stay behind at the Sick Bay, after I had changed into some folded black Starfleet clothes and as Jim waited at the entrance to the Sick Bay.

'You can keep on dreamin' darlin',' is the Doctors only reply, when I tell him that I am ready and changed as he yanks aside the curtain. 'You aren't discharged from Sick Bay yet-'

I go to roll my eyes. 'Len, come on. I am _fine-'_ I cut myself off, my face falling and my hands flying to my head as I perch on the end of the bed, having just been slipping on my boots. 'Wait - oh my _God_ -' The Doctor lurches forward, eyes wide, but his expression becomes one of utter disdain when I drop my hands to my side and snort. 'Sorry. That was mean. But you're being _paranoid_ '.

He looks right about to throttle me; his face folding into one of his famous frowns and his arms crossing tightly across his chest. 'You try that shit with Spock. He'll find it damn _hilarious_ ,' Leonard drawls, mouth curling into a sardonic pout as I stifle a smile and pull on my other boot. 'Y'sure your ready for this?'

I nod as I get up. 'I'm sure. Are _you sure_ you can leave?'

Leonard nods, stepping back as I move forward. 'M'Benga and Chapel will _surely_ be able to run this circus for a little while. C'mon - Jim is the least damn patient person I know'.

Turns out, the Doctor was right. The moment we cross the Sick Bay floor, the Captain of the Enterprise rolls his eyes and beckons us forward with an impatient look. Jim seemed somewhat... _happy_ since I had woken up. Maybe it was because things had gone his way. The portal was gone. Bates had been captured. I was alive. Other than the fact that the Enterprise had been forced to turn right back around just at the beginning of its five year mission and go straight back to Earth, the Captain seemed...excited.

We march quickly down the brightly lit, shiny floors of the Enterprise, both men either side of me. Various people who we pass bow their heads to the Captain in greeting, but hardly throw me a second glance. Perhaps the crew had grown tired of questioning _who_ I was, other than the girl they had rescued weeks ago from the mad Edgar Bates, who was now in their care.

I brush thoughts from my mind as we go forward, the Doctor and the Captain exchanging words on the Warp factor and what the Admirals at the Academy would say when they learned I was awake. Jim insisted that he would tell them after taking me to the Brig. My mind wanders, the ache in my foot the only thing grounding me. I suppose the news that I was to be here, in this time, had not really sunk in yet. When the moment came when I was alone, I'm sure it would then.

For now, I had things that I needed to do.

I was tired, that much was obvious after exiting the quiet elevator and finding myself on a floor that I had not seen before. Crew members wearing a majority of red don this floor, and I wonder if it is because this was mostly where Security would be. I blink hard, my head beginning to ache more and my nerves getting the best of me.

Did I really want to face Edgar Bates?

'June'. I blink and turn, only to see that Leonard was tugging me by my elbow to a stop. He shares a knowing look with Jim over my head, and I bristle. _I'm fine. Why won't they accept that?_ The Doctor growls when I catch his gaze, his brow furrowing, before he yanks what I now recognise to be a tricorder from his pocket. 'Dammit. I damn _said_ you weren't ready to leave your Med-Bed yet! You're as pale as a freakin' snowman in winter-'

Admittedly, I was beginning to feel rather...well, _shit_ , but I wasn't about to tell him that. I turn to Jim as Leonard frantically waves the tricorder around my head, my tone deadpan. 'How on _earth_ do you deal with him?' I ask the Captain.

The Captain manages a short smile and a shrug. 'I avoid my check-ups'.

'Your heart rate has elevated,' Leonard snaps, shoving the tricorder into his pocket before before flattening a warm hand against my forehead. I yelp and step sharply away from him. 'And you're damn _warm._ Five minutes and then I'm taking you back to Sick-'

'To my _room,'_ I snap right back, swatting him away.

Leonard glares. I glare right back. Behind me, Jim sighs. 'Five minutes,' the Captain agrees, and I turn to look over my shoulder at him. 'You're still in shock, June. God knows you should be. Whilst we all cannot thank you enough for what you did for us on Clion...the implications of what it means for you-' _No going home. No seeing my mother, or my father, or anything remotely familiar ever again._

'I _know_ ,' I cut across him, not wanting the words to fall from his mouth. After a moments pause, I look toward an archway that seems to lead to a room further down the corridor. Outside of it stood two women in red Security shirts. 'Is that where he is?' I inquire, already turning sharply on my heel and heading for the room, wanting very much to be rid of the conversation.

The women straighten up when I approach, but I can only assume that the hurrying Captain just a few steps behind me had signalled that it was okay to let me pass. With curious glances to me, I ignore them as I hurry past into a room that was wide and spacious, with large glass cells lining the furthest walls in a semi-circle like fashion. I come to a sudden stop, scanning around. To my left, there was a desk manned by a man with green skin and dark hair. When had such a sight become normal to me?

I breathe in deeply as I look and, finally, I see him.

He stands in the cell opposite to me, his back pressed neatly against the far wall and his hands linked behind his back. _How long has he been standing like that?_ He was wearing the same clothes as before, still spattered with both his blood and others. I wondered if this was Jim's way of punishing the man; of making him feel less than human. Or, perhaps, Bates had become violent when they had attempted to change him.

I would bet my life it was the latter.

His eyes, still glassy and nearly grey in the bright light, jump to my face the moment I lay eyes on him. He shifts, maybe in surprise, but the movement is so small I wonder if it had happened at all. His white hair is stuck to his head, crisp with sweat and blood and God knows what else. After a pause which seems to stretch for hours, he breathes in sharply and smiles a horrible, sweet little smile.

 _'Two'._

His voice was still as commanding and strong as ever, with a rough undertone as if he had been screaming recently. I flinch at the sound of it, not quite expecting how terrible it would be to see him again. I had remembered so much more of him. In the moment I had decided to fight back against the Portal and allow the strong and protective nagging feeling to lead me up the metal Bridge days ago, I had broken a wall that had blocked so many memories from me.

I remembered _everything_ this man had done to me. Even the etching of the small, risen tattoo on the back of my neck.

I walk forward, my jaw set and my hands as still as I can make them. I can't let him know that he has ruined my life and changed whatever path it might have taken. I can't let him know that the power inside of me is something that I am still not sure I can even control. I cannot, above all else, let him know that even when trapped behind glass, he still _terrifies_ me.

'I see Doctor McCoy's reputation proceeds him. Even on my days on Earth before fleeing the confines of the Academy, I knew well of his talents,' Bates murmurs, gaze flickering up and down my form. I stop three feet from the glass, my dry mouth clamped shut. 'I was quite sure he would not be able to save my greatest creation. And you are, aren't you? How _beautiful_ you looked, even as you destroyed my work'.

 _When I had floated above ground; the power inside of me finally fucking unleashed and feeling far more welcome and part of me than I ever wanted it to._

 _I was not created,_ I want to tell him. _I was born. I was born on October 13th, 1994. Long before you even existed._ Still, though, I do nothing but stare back at him, trying with all my might to show him how much he repulsed me. Footsteps echo, and Bates' gaze flickers left and right. The Captain and the Doctor were here, flanking me. Somehow, though I would not admit it to them, that reassured me.

'Yet,' Bates drawls, his gaze now flicking back to mine. There is an ounce of annoyance in his tone now, as if my silence was bothering him. _Good._ I wanted nothing more than to make _him_ uncomfortable for once. 'Martyrdom is something you must have learned whilst in the company of _Captain's_ and _Medical Doctors_ , my dear. You _could_ have gone home, you know'. He shifts and I swallow, trying with everything I have not to break his gaze or step back. He almost _spits_ the titles of the men either side of me. 'It was _your_ mistake to close the Portal-'

Jim cuts in then, exasperation and calmness in his tone. Something of which I was sure I could not summon. 'The Portal was wrecking _havoc_ on the planet in which _you,_ Edgar Bates, _invaded_ with your Science. An hour more, and it would have been sucked into the black hole that _you_ created-'

Bates makes a clicking sound with his tongue. 'You _Golden_ boys,' he titters, grey eyes rolling. ' _Always_ intervening with a Scientist's work. Or, Admirals. Isn't that right, Kirk?' He smirks. 'Though that may be, an hour more with Two and the Portal which we _bore life to,_ the possibilities may have been endless. What do you _think_ we were doing with her in those weeks? The girl is a _specimen_ of power that has never been seen among Humans before. Yet, she was taken by _you_ before we could fully understand the connection she had with the Portal which _brought_ her to this Universe-'

'Her name is June, you damn _kook_!' Leonard snaps and growls, a sharp sound amongst Bates and his calm tone.

Bates entirely ignores him. 'And now,' he continues. 'I am the only one who understands how we _made it._ The others, it would seem, were beginning to grow _scared_ upon seeing your full, realised abilities, Two'. He says the name with such caring, his smile that of a father looking upon their daughter. I continue to blink at him, my mouth a flat line and my palms sweaty at my side. 'I _had_ to be rid of them. You _did_ grow in your time away from home, didn't you?' He smiles, proud and caring, and my stomach twists.

 _Home,_ I think. _Was never with him. Home was fields and the smell of cooking and Game of Thrones and the smell of slick oil and the grind of machinery and my fingers tinkering with delicate wires-_

I swallow, taking just one more, small step forward. My words come unbidden. 'And why aren't _you_?' I ask him, voice quiet and just as shaky as I thought it would be. Who fucking _cares_? 'Why aren't _you_ scared? Do you think, in your _horrible_ little mind, that I'm _happy_ you did this to me?' I laugh, humourless and bemused. Words force themselves our of my mouth; angry and stinging. 'If I wasn't so _elated_ with the idea of you _rotting_ in some cell for the rest of your life, I would have no issue with using these fucking _abilities_ you _oh-so_ generously gave meto _kill_ you right now'. He blinks, the smile vanishing, before opening his mouth to reply. ' _No_ ,' I cut him off, voice shaking and finger raised. 'You _don't get_ to talk'. I lower my hand, my finger shaking and my mind trying with all its might to squash the shaking, nagging feeling. _Not now._ 'Have a nice few days in this cell - it's _far_ nicer than the one you gave me. I'll see you at the trial, Edgar'.

With that, I turn on my heel with a wobble in my step and my heart thrumming in my chest, fully aware that I was on the verge of tripping and landing straight on my face. I ignore Leonard and Jim's shared look, only acknowledging the man at the desk with a mumbled, 'Thanks'.

' _Jesus,'_ Jim mutters, hurrying to get back in step with me as I dart off to God knows where, leaving the cells behind me. 'Remind me not to get on the wrong side of _you_ '.

I manage a small snort, whilst Leonard grumbles, 'Woman is a damn she-witch. I've been tellin' you this for weeks, Jim'.

'Way to kick me when I'm down,' I mutter.

'So, you feelin' _better_ now you've spoken to Mister Sane back there?' I ignore the question from the Doctor. 'Didn't think so,' mutters Leonard.

'Bones, will you shut up?' The Doctor grumbles in reply, as the Captain nudges me down a corridor as I blink at a crossroads, annoyed that I have no clue where I am going. 'June, are you okay? Yeah? Good. Look, I'm going to have to ask you to join me on the Bridge for a scheduled transmission from Starfleet. After that, I _promise_ that you will be able to go back to your Quarters after a fifteen minute talk with Jommin. Deal?'

I throw him a sideways glance, to which he cocks a brow and throws a smile my way. In the end, I comply, practically shoving Leonard in the direction of the Sick-Bay when he opens his mouth. 'I am _fine'._

It is then that Jim's Comm beeps, and he steps away to flip it open with a, 'Kirk here'.

Leonard takes this opportunity to step back toward me, and I blink up at him, readying myself for whatever worry the Doctor is going to spew all over me. His face, which I was starting to get annoyed at with how damn handsome and distracting it was and, oh God, he really was just annoyingly persistent in making me give a shit about him, wasn't he? He draws his lips into a tight frown, his broad shoulders sagging beneath his Medical blues. He seems to struggle with his words for a moment, huffing when I cock my brow slowly. '...My shift finishes at nine and starts again at six,' he tells me, brow furrowed and hazel eyes flicking toward the distracted Jim. 'You... _dammit_ , d'you wanna have dinner in my Quarters? Figure I won't be able to sleep without knowin' how everythin' went with the Admirals'.

Oh.

I am so fucking thankful for him in that moment, because despite how hard I have tried to push aside any soft feelings I have for the Doctor because, realistically, there was much bigger shit to focus on...Well, I am so relieved that just that one request is enough to push what had just happened with Bates from my mind, if only for a second. I try very hard to keep my emotions in tact, as to make sure the lights above me don't _combust._ 'Oh'. I blink. 'I'd...I'd actually really like that. Figure I won't be able to asleep because, well...' I trail off, shrug, and scoff. 'Yes,' I agree. I throw a look at Jim as he flips his Comm shut and makes his way back toward us. 'Figure we're keeping this quiet?'

'Nah,' Leonard smirks; a smirk which has me blinking very hard. 'Only when I end up in your bed do we have to keep things quiet, sweetheart'. He turns on his heel then, but not before throwing a nod Jim's way and giving my beet red face one last look.

 _What...just happened?_

'Turns out Mister Spock decided to... _help,'_ Jim grits the word out. 'And inform Starfleet that you are awake and well. We have a transmission waiting for us on the Bridge _now_ -'

I frown, wiping McCoy's odd banter from my mind. 'I thought...well, I thought we were keeping my voodoo shit on the down low?' I ask, as Jim nods for us to begin our walk again. 'Having a full blown conversation about it on the Bridge doesn't exactly scream subtle, Jim'.

He huffs out a laugh. 'After the events on Clion 2BA, I elected to broaden the people who were aware of your abilities, and that of which Bates and his team did to you. After Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Chekov witnessed what happened in the bunker...well, it seemed prudent to inform a few of the others as to why we are returning to Earth after such a short time'. He gives me a meaningful look as we enter the elevator. 'I trust all of my crew with my life, June, but none more than my Bridge crew'. I smile tightly. 'They understand what has happened to you, and...I feel as if you keep expecting judgement. You _aren't_ gonna get any. I can tell you that much'.

I shrug. 'I can kill people with my mind. You expect judgement'.

The Captain snorts, before wiping away his smile and attempting to don a more professional look. 'I can see why Bones likes you, and let me tell you, he _doesn't_ like many people. It took me _weeks_ at the Academy to even get him to have _lunch_ with me'. Jim eyes me for a moment, before smiling when the lift doors open. 'You're going to make a life here, June. Just don't...don't let what those Scientists did to you hinder your opinion of Starfleet because, well, you've got the stuff for a life amongst the stars, Adams'. He blinks, shuts his mouth, and looks down at his golden shirt. 'Damn wrinkles,' he mutters, flattening a palm against the yellow fabric. 'Admirals always give me a telling off when I'm not _pristine_ in transmissions'.

With that, he surges forward onto the Bridge, leaving me blinking behind him and trying to understand what he had just said.

'Captain on ze Bridge!' Chekov chirps, barely turning in his seat as Jim marches forward and goes straight toward the Captain's chair. I follow after a moment, only pausing when Lieutenant Uhura spins suddenly in her chair as I pass her, causing me to jump an embarrassing amount. A beautiful smile graces her features as she stands, and it takes me a split second to realise that said smile was directed at _me._

'Miss Adams,' she says, standing straight and tall. 'I'm so glad to see that you're well. I just...I wanted to thank you for what you did back there. If it wasn't for you, I'm sure Clion 2BA would no longer even exist'. I clock straight away that she hadn't even mentioned her own life, and decide that in that moment I quite like this woman. I smile brightly.

'You don't need to thank me for that,' I reply, racking my brains for anything else that I could _possibly_ say to this ridiculously beautiful and intelligent woman. Didn't she speak, like...a _billion_ languages, or something? 'I'm just glad everyone got out alright. Thank _you_ for coming to our rescue. We would have been pretty screwed without you'.

 _Jesus. You have such a way with words, June._

She nods, smile still in place, and steps back toward her seat. It is at that moment that Jim calls for her, asking for her to open up a transmission to the waiting Starfleet. I stall for a moment, glancing around the Bridge, before darting over to Jim and leaving Uhura to do her job as she spins around in her seat and toward her Station.

Mister Spock stands on Jim's right side, his gaze following me as I move. 'You appear to be faring well, Miss Adams,' he says, the moment I reach him. He bows his head as the screen before us flickers to life.

I manage another tight smile. It was only now, as I was surrounded by all of these Officers, that I realised just how many times Leonard had been in my company when I did things like this. It was unnerving. 'Thanks to you guys,' I shoot back. 'Leonard told me that you practically _carried_ me out of the place. _Thank you'._

The Vulcan inclines is head. 'No thanks is needed'.

 _Well_ , then.

I jolt when the screen flares to life, and a familiar dark face stares right back at us. Jim greets him, and I realise just who it is. _Admiral Akachi._ The man who I had spoken to when I had first woken up on the Enterprise, what seemed like a lifetime ago. He looked much the same, with the same serious expression and neatly pressed uniform on.

The crew around us continue to work, apparently used to various transmissions coming in throughout the day. 'Captain Kirk, Commander Spock,' the Admiral greets, nodding to each of the men. He turns his dark gaze to me. 'Miss Adams'.

I fold my hands behind my back to keep me from fiddling with them and nod, trying to mask my face with as much of a serious look as I can muster. 'Admiral,' I say in return, feeling pretty darn proud of myself for using the correct title.

I look quickly around, spying to see if any of the crew were looking at me curiously. True to Jim's words, though...they weren't. They continued with their own work, professional and respectful and not throwing me a second glance. I jolt back when I hear the Captain talking, my eyes wide and my throat tight. 'My sincerest apologies,' the Admiral says, in return to what Jim had said. His gaze, though, was on me. 'For your loss. And my thanks for your sacrifice'.

 _You can cry later._

I nod. 'Thank you and, er, you're welcome'.

'Now,' the Admiral begins, shifting in whatever seat he was in. 'There is much to discuss. There is a question I must ask you now, Miss Adams, as to ensure the following events over the next few weeks run smoothly, is this: Are you willing to appear before the Court to testify against Doctor Edgar John Bates?'

If I could laugh, I would.

'Most definitely, Admiral'.

* * *

 **Okay, so, I lied. June did not have time to come to terms with her emotions this chapter, but I'm actually pretty glad it turned out like that? It seems more real, that she would shove them down until she can come to terms with what she has lost.**

 **Anyway. I'm going to moan now. The reviews are getting less since my last bitch, and guys I just** _ **reaaaaally** _**want you to know how much some, tiny, simply review means to me. This story is going to be a long one, and I really don't want to lose focus because I'm not getting enough reviews, considering nearly 200 people are reading each chapter. Literally, something as simple as 'good' would make my day. So, if you could literally type 'good' if you liked the chapter, that's all you need to do! I would be v happy! I would stop moaning!**

 **Anyway, to the people who do leave such fabulous feedback, you know who you are and I read all of your reviews and I love them, so thank you for that. They truly mean a lot.**

 **Thanks!**


	20. The Winner Takes It All

_I don't wanna talk_  
 _About things we've gone through_  
 _Though it's hurting me_  
 _Now it's history_  
 _I've played all my cards_  
 _And that's what you've done too_

The Winner Takes It All - ABBA

* * *

Jommin's Quarters are about the same size as mine, but with far more character than my own. There are pictures hanging everywhere - all of them of famous landmarks from around the world, and even some I had seen from Federation planets I had looked up. The Eiffel Tower (which, when I peer at it, I see that it looks much the same from my time, only the buildings in the background seemed different), the Grand Canyon, the Houses of Parliament...All of them showing her and a pretty woman, hands linked and smiles huge.

She had knocked on my door not five minutes after I had gotten out of the sonic shower after Jim had taken me back to my Quarters. With a large smile and a hand on my shoulder, she had told me that since she had entered my 'safe space' so many times, perhaps it would make me feel better if I saw her own rooms.

So, we had done just that.

'Would you like a drink?' she inquires, hovering by the food replicator. I nod, asking for a black coffee, whilst she makes herself a steaming mug of green tea. I hover around the doorway, spying out family photos and piles of paperwork on her coffee table. There room even had a _rug._ I hobble over to the couch when she asks me to, rubbing away the tiredness of my eyes and twisting my stiff ankle as I settle onto the seat next to her.

Then, Jommin hands me my drink and stares at me for a good ten seconds.

I throw her a shifty look. ' _What?'_

The Counsellor takes a small sip of her drink, before pushing her thick dark hair over her shoulder and settling back into the couch, her brown eyes trained on me. 'Everyone on this ship takes a small sacrifice of being away from home,' she tells me, folding her hands around the mug and resting it on her lap. I shift, and take a deep, nervous gulp of the steaming coffee in my hands. 'When Starfleet allowed Captain Kirk to take the Enterprise on this five year mission, every single member of this crew knew the sacrifices of what they were leaving behind. No matter what country they are from - no matter what _world._ I, myself, am from the Canary Islands, and miss my home everyday'.

I scoff. 'Well, you're welcome. Turns out because of _me_ you guys are turning _right_ back around on your five year mission to drop me back at Earth-'

Jommin scoffs, titters, and throws me a _look_. 'You are so self-deprecating, aren't you? For a moment, June, can you please just accept what has happened to you and drop this act of being so _strong_? To mourn is to be alive, and to know that we are capable of _feeling._ I cry for my mother in the times I send a transmission to her, even though we have scarcely left Earth behind us. I know many on this ship who talk to me of how they miss their wives, husbands, children and parents. And you, June, you lost all of that in just _one day'._

 _Oh. So that's where she had been going with this._ I swallow, knowing full well that this had been coming for a long time. It had been ages since I had last spoken to Jommin, with all that had been going on, and now that everything had come to a stand still...it seemed liked the shock of everything was close to crashing down around me. 'I know,' I mutter, avoiding her gaze.

She pauses, before sighing again and taking a dip of her drink. 'Captain Kirk mentioned you spoke to one of the Admirals. What did he say?'

I want to tell her that I'm sure she already knows, but play along anyway. Leaning back into the couch, I wince as my bones creak, and shrug. 'He wanted to know if I would testify against Bates, given everything that has happened. He wanted to... _assure_ me that I will be welcome when we get to Earth, and that Starfleet will do everything that they can to aid me in making a life for myself and creating an identity for me'. _Alone._ 'I think they're just hoping that I'll keep my mouth shut'.

'And how does that make you feel?'

I throw her a sideways glance and a grimace at her choice of words. '...Annoyed, I guess. Part of me thinks...they should have kept a better watch on what their own Scientists were doing. Even before me...a _little boy_ died. What the fuck kind of tests were they doing to him to _kill him?_ They just - just wanted to see how strong we were - to see what we could do to that damn Portal when the time came-' I sniff angrily and shake my head. 'I...It's like it doesn't even matter. The Portal is closed. Clion 2BA is safe. Bates has been captured. But I...'

'But you are left with the consequences'. Jommin nods, catches my eye, and says, 'You can cry, June'.

I do. I almost want to bloody laugh at how quickly it happens; as if the tears had been waiting hours and hours to come forth, just waiting for someone to reassure me that _this_ was the moment to mourn. 'I just don't-' My face crumples and hot tears spill over onto my cheeks. With fumbling hands, I plonk the half-filled cup of dark coffee onto the table. My body tremors and the stress; the utter _devastation_ I feel finally takes physical form. 'I'm just so _scared,_ Doc'.

'Of course,' Jommin agrees, eyebrows knitted together and mouth puckered. 'Your pain is _justified,_ June'.

I nod, moan, and groan. I hiccup, rubbing at my sore eyes. 'I don't even _care_ that I died. That shit doesn't matter. Leonard...he saved my _life_ and he seems so _angry_. But I had to stop that fucking Portal! It's just...this _thing_ inside of me. The moment I was in front of that Portal, I felt like I could do _anything._ I _killed two men with my_ _mind_. That's not _normal!'_ I hiccup again, my face crumpling in a way that I am sure is far from attractive. 'And I...God, I feel so fucking _selfish,_ because even though it feels like my heart is being stomped on, and I've lost everyone I love because of that _man,_ I.. _.'_ The words get caught in my throat, and I whine, burying my face in my hands and feel _extremely_ pitiful.

'You have started to make a life here,' fills in Jommin, her Spanish accent soft as she reaches across to place a steady hand on my knee. 'You have made connections. You have seen a world beyond your own. Now that you know that this is where you must stay...do you not think your family would _want_ that for you?' I shrug, face still hidden, and Jommin huffs out a laugh. 'I think they would, June'.

'I _know_ you're right,' I reply wetly, pulling my face from my wet hands and sniffing - _loudly._ 'Jesus - I fucking _needed this'._ I wipe at my cheeks, throwing the Counsellor a look. 'You're really good at this,' I tell her, voice thick and wobbly. 'I'm scared about Earth,' I admit, hiccuping yet again. 'It's all going to be so different'.

Jommin nods. 'You will take it in your stride'.

 _Let's fucking hope so._ 'I'm scared about the trial,' I add on, forcing myself to admit this fears to her. 'I'm scared about what they will all think of me. I'm scared I won't be able to control this _thing_ inside of me. I'm scared of what will happen when the Enterprise returns on its mission, and I am left on Earth. I'm scared they'll take me away and do tests on me. I'm-'

'If you think,' she informs me, squeezing my knee tighter. 'That Captain Kirk or Doctor McCoy would allow that to happen for even a second, you are very dim, June Adams'.

At that, I have to snort. Still, what others might there be in Starfleet, something I had only seen firsthand from what I had witnessed on the Enterprise, who could do what those Scientists did to me? Bates, as mad as he was, had managed to stay under their radar for fuck knows how long. 'I suppose you're right,' I agree, wiping at my face again. 'Can I...can I ask you something about Starfleet?'

She peers for a moment, but shrugging. 'Of course'.

I swallow, very sure my face was a swollen and red wreck, before thinking of the words I was about to ask. It was a risk, I knew, but one that I was _sure_ I wanted to take. I knew what I needed to do - a small plan as formulating in the back of my mind. 'How many years would an Engineering course be?'

* * *

I stand in front of my replicator for a good fifteen minutes, before deciding on a sleeveless top and dark jeans. It was Leonard McCoy, for God's sake. The man would not care an _inch_ what I was fucking wearing. I have to remind myself sometimes that the man was thirty-four, and whilst he had admitted he cared for me, I think the last thing he would ever want is some twenty-four year old idiot having a damn crush on him.

Not that I _did_. He was just...lovely looking. And lovely sounding. And, well, _lovely._

I had scrubbed my face to hell and back, ridding my face of the sweet tangy taste of tears and sweat, before yanking a brush through my red curls and calling it a day. Really, it wasn't going to get much better than that. I hobble out of my Quarters at half past nine, after two hours of reading up on the Prime Directive and what it entailed, before nervously knocking on the Doctors door.

He opens it after a few seconds of me standing there, hoping to fuck that any of the other Officers on this floor were not about to stroll past me and as what the fuck I was doing hovering outside the CMO's Quarters. I all but stare when he opens the door, a glass of something sparkling in his hand and a cocked eyebrow on his face. I look from the drink to his face. 'You guys had booze on this ship the whole time and _never told me?'_

The Doctor scoffs. 'Good evenin' to you too, June'. I smile when he steps aside, taking the glass eagerly and gawping when he says, 'We have a damn bar, too'.

I gape. 'How can you _moan_ about living here?'

'Try being afraid of things that _fly_ and then living on a damn _space_ _ship-'_

'Well,' I counter. 'That _was_ your choice'. I smile, showing him that I am joking when he huffs and rolls his eyes, before looking around his Quarters, which were laid out much the same as mine. They were, if anything, _scarcer_ than mine, save for pictures on the counters and books, paperwork and the smell of something sweet, like recently sprayed cologne, lingering in the air. 'Thank you,' I offer quickly, remembering the drink that he had given me and peering over the rim of the glass. Was it impolite to ask what the hell it was?

He was already starting for the kitchen area, where two steaming plates of something were waiting on the counter. _Oh, God. Now I have to eat in front of him._ I hobble over to the counter, watching the way the Doctor turns and grabs some forks from a nearby draw, before turning back to me with a narrow eyed look. 'You're _limpin_ ',' he accuses, settling the cutlery with a clatter onto the counter-top.

I shrug, taking a sip of the fizzy, bitter drink. God, how I had missed the terrible taste of booze. 'It's just stiff'. In an attempt to distract him from badgering me anymore, I incline my head toward the food. 'What's that?' A stupid question, considering how obvious the answer was.

Leonard looks from me, to the meal, and then back to me. He cocks a brow 'I would say it's _pretty_ darn obvious it's pasta, sweetheart'. With that, he reaches onto the opposing counter for his own fizzing glass, before taking a deep swig. 'C'mon - couch it is. Unless you want to eat at the table?' He nods toward the table, tucked away in the corner, and I throw him a dry look.

'We lived in a cave together, Len. I think you can safely drop the formalities. You drank my foot water, remember?' I mutter, pleased beyond belief that the Doctor was shockingly good at making this situation, after such a terrible day, a comfortable one. Leonard snorts in agreement, before nodding at me to go toward the couch.

I fold myself onto the sofa after kicking off my shoes, my legs crossed beneath me and my steaming plate of tomato pasta balanced across two knees. I peer sideways at the Doctor as he settles himself onto the space one over from mine, from his tired eyes, his plain black shirt and jeans, to the relaxed way in which he moves around me. I would never, not in a million years, have imagined myself in the position I am now just a few weeks ago.

'How was your shift?' I ask, eyeing up the obviously hand made cushions pressed into each corner of the couch. His mum, maybe?

'An idiot Engineer managed to singe his eyebrows off trying to fix a damn replicator in the Food Hall. Nearly gave himself third degree burns. Damn Engineers are-' He cuts himself off, throws me a dark look, and settles back into the couch. 'Well, you'd know. _You're_ one of them. Swear to God there's more of 'em than when we started this damn mission'.

I nod solemnly. 'Our sole aim in life is to annoy _just_ you, Doctor'.

'Eat your damn food, smart ass. You ever used your rooms holo? Guessin' I was suppose to show you how to use the damn thing when you landed your ass on the Enterprise'. At that, I chew slowly on my food and wait for him to look at me, my dry expression saying all that he needed to know. 'Don't know why you're givin' me that damn look, sweetheart. I _tried_ to help-'

'You spoke to me like I had an IQ of _four!'_ I snort. 'And I have, actually. I would be bored fucking _witless_ without it in those damn rooms'. McCoy grumbles that he'll put something on, and I watch as he scrolls through a variation of films, giving him sideways looks whilst he is distracted. He looked relaxed. Was this the Leonard McCoy that I had been missing out on, when he was finally done with his gruelling shifts as CMO? The one who wore jeans and loose shirts and ate replicator pasta with extra red pepper? The one who drinks what I can only assume is some bitter beer, but makes the effort to serve it in a flute glass?

'When is your shift tomorrow?' I inquire, when he finally grumbles after my nagging that, _fine,_ he will attempt to watch the scientifically impossible film that is Jurassic Park.

'5 AM,' he replies, without much care.

I tear my gaze away from the holo, where the dark music was rumbling, and feel sudden guilt. He didn't seem to notice; too busy scooping up his food and sitting far more elegantly in the couch than I was. 'Jesus, that's _early._ You didn't have to-'

He glares at me. 'If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have damn well invited you,' he cuts me off. With that, he turns back toward the holo, grumbling something about shitty quality of 20th Century films and the poor attempt at good writing. I, on the other hand, am having a very hard time reigning in my emotions after such a long day of finding out that I had died, and crying all over poor Jommin.

'Thank you,' I mutter quietly, turning back to the screen and ignoring his gaze, which lands on me at my words.

Only ten minutes pass before he is speaking, drawing my attention away from the film of which I would, even at threat of death, say was quite possibly the greatest film ever made. 'Jim told me you held your own against Akachi'. I shrug, to which he sighs and reaches forward to place his empty plate on the coffee table. After a few seconds, I do the same. 'Gonna need to keep that up, sweetheart. Starfleet's gonna be pretty darn pissed that they let someone like Bates slip through their fingers. You're the one thing standing between a mass media storm and complete calm-'

I pull my knees closer to my chest, my socked toes wiggling as I look across the couch to him. 'I don't want anything from them. I just want _them_ to not make the same mistakes'. _Liar. There's one thing you want, you just don't want to let anyone know right now._

'I know, sweetheart-'

'Is that Johanna?' The question comes blurting from my mouth before I can stop it, my eyes having travelled to a picture placed just beyond his shoulder, on a shelf above the small dining table. It was a girl, that much I could see, with dark eyes and dark hair holding what looked to be a very brightly coloured bird in both her hands, a toothy grin on her face. Leonard stills and I trip quickly over my words. 'Shit. Sorry. Foot in mouth disease. I just saw-'

'Jesus. What have I told you about apologisin' for every damn thing?' Leonard's mouth twists into something akin to a teasing smile, and my cheeks cool somewhat. 'It is. Took it when I had some free time on Earth after the Khan incident and got to spend some weeks with just me and her'. I listen, grabbing onto any bit of information that I could, considering he knew so much about me. 'Took her to Italy, after naggin' Joce for a good five days straight-'

I grin. 'I bet you bloody _spoil_ her'. For the first time, I see a somewhat bashful look cross his features, before it is swallowed by a shifty, half-amused expression. 'She looks like you,' I murmur, squinting slightly at the picture from my stance. From in front of us, the music picks up on the holo, but we entirely ignore it. 'Same eyes. Hair. _Face'._

Leonard snorts. 'Somethin' Joce reminds me of damn near constantly'. He takes another swig of his drink, and I sip at mine, watching him quietly. 'You seem better than I expected,' he shoots back to me, shifting the conversation in a not-so-subtle way.

I blink and nearly scoff at the irony. 'Jommin came to see me. Safe to say she would not agree with you'.

He leans further back into his seat. I, in turn, tuck myself close into the corner, pressing myself into the smell of wood, leather, and that sweet cologne that seemed to wrap around every inch of the Doctors Quarters. 'You took someone's advice and went to see the damn counsellor? Colour me impressed. You ain't exactly the type to stop and think about how you might be feelin', sweetheart, no offence-'

'You're probably right,' I agree. 'Still, _you're_ one to talk. But I cried for three hours straight, so I think I've reached my emotional quota for today, thank you'. Before he can attempt to bring the conversation back to me, I swerve and look toward the brim filled bookcase. 'Is that Lord of the Rings?' He grumbles something about deflecting conversation, before affirming yes. 'I read those books once,' I murmur. 'My mum had copies from when she was a teenager. I loved them, but I don't think I could read them more than once. It was a _ball-ache'._

'Can't disagree with you there, sweetheart'.

I ask him if he has ever seen the films, and he replies no, but he has seen the ones made in 2134. I, in return, glower and insist that they must be terrible compared to those ones I knew of. The film is soon forgotten, a mere background noise as he grumbles in reply to my questions, before not long asking a question of his own. _Was I worried about being back on Earth? How was I feeling? Did my abilities feel any different after what had happened in the bunker?_ Soon, it went onto questions beyond my health. _Why did I go to Oxford Uni? Where did I grow up? Why do I always insist upon chewing on my nails - did I not know how bad that was for me?'_

'I don't chew on my nails,' I inform him, affronted, and spreading my fingers out before me. Admittedly, they didn't look as fresh as they had one before, but I didn't _chew them._ I flick my gaze toward him and sniff.' _You're_ one to talk. I thought _I_ drank a lot of coffee. You're going to have a bloody heart attack at the rate you're going, Doctor-'

I ask him questions in return. _Your mum totally made you these pillows right?_ The answer was a grumbled yes. _Did you always know you would take the path of being a surgeon? How old were you when you were made CMO?_ _When were you born?_

'21st of March?' I reply with a snort, taking the last sip of my beer. I grin, a little flushed in the cheeks. 'Figures. You're an Aries. _The Ram-'_ I catch a quick smile on his face, and swallow my words with a blush and a nervous laugh. 'What?'

He shakes his head. 'You truly are one in a million, June Adams. Y'know that?'

I blush. 'And you're fucking corny, Leonard McCoy'.

He rolls his eyes at that, before sighing loudly at the sight of the T-Rex on the holo. 'See? Now what on Gods green Earth is _that_ supposed to be? You're tellin' me that this is one of your favourite damn films?'

'Watch your damn mouth, McCoy'. He begins to poke fun at me, then, and I leap onto the opportunity to have some banter with a man who had an equally sharp tongue. He was dry and sarcastic, and I was British. It was _perfect._ The moment he pokes fun at my music taste, I snap my mouth shut and turn a hot glare his way, my only reply to his words a slow blink.

'Don't look at me like that. I thought _Dancin' Queen_ was a damn _atrocity_ of a song. _Then_ I listened to _Mama Mia_ -'

'You're fucking _dead_ inside,' I inform him calmly, to which he rolls his eyes so hard I'm unsure how he didn't lose his balance, even whilst sitting down. Still, I have to swallow a smile at the idea of Doctor McCoy taking the time to listen to ABBA upon my request.

It is an hour later that I start, my eyes beginning to slip shut, and all but jump into a sitting position. 'Oh, _God_! You have an early shift!' The Doctor, who seemed to be equally as sleepy as I, looks over at me with narrowed eyes and a slouch in his stature. I blink, rubbing at my eyes and shaking the tiredness from my head. 'I'm sorry, I must have started to doze off-' I trip to my feet, hazy with such a light sleep, and nearly topple over my discarded boots.

I think of my Quarters. So impersonal and without pictures, and somehow colder despite the easy heating modifications. My bed, hard and cold and with empty walls and no pictures of family and friends, like my walls at home-

McCoy clambers to his feet also, the specimen of gentlemanly as he stands back, watching me begin to reach down for me shoes and mutter how sorry I was for keeping him awake for so long. I blink blearily up at him, catching him when he opens his mouth, shuts it, and then reaches up to ruffle his hair and mutter something to himself.

I peer, straightening up, half-worried. 'What's wrong?'

He glares sideways at me, his mouth a tight line. 'You're gonna take this the wrong damn way, and I don't want ya too. I ain't that kinda man-' Have I ever mentioned that his Southern accent gets _much_ stronger when he had been asleep? It was something I had discovered in the cave, and it was _great._ 'I don't... Look, seein' you like that - _dead._ It hasn't sat right with me, and every night were were in that _damn_ sleep, June, I-' He frowns, an angry expression crossing his features. My heart thrums solidly in my chest, and I have to fight very hard from laughing at how bloody _awkward_ he was being. 'I-'

'You don't have to _beg,'_ I cut him off, a teasing tone in my voice to hide how embarrassed and nervous I was. 'I'll stay here if you _want_ me to'. His gaze flicks back to mine as his mouth closes slowly.

There is a moment of silence as we digest the agreement; the words just spoken. What did it mean? Neither one of us really fucking knew, I guess. I knew that this wasn't for a quick fuck, or anything like I'd had before. I knew that it wasn't because of the attraction I felt for him. On my end of things, the quick agreement was because of one very simple thing: Leonard McCoy had been with me through every terrible part of this fucked up journey, and he made me feel a little less like I was about to dive off of the bloody deep end.

Why he, a Doctor and a fucking genius, wanted me around...well, I was bloody confused as anything about that.

He glares at me, and the silences stretches. After a pause, his shoulders sag and his brow softens. With as much sincerity as I am sure the Doctor can manage, he takes one uneasy step toward me, his mouth twitching with words that I both want him to say, and not say at all. In the end, he speaks slowly, but with his hazel gaze locked to mine. 'You're damn annoyin' as hell, sweetheart, but...seein' you like that...it would be mighty nice to be as close to you as this damn ship will let me, if only for a little while more'.

Queue me combusting into fucking flames from blushing so hard.

I'll tell you one thing: upon realising that you have lost everyone that you love so much in the world...Well, to find someone that seems to give this much of a shit about you...it's a great fucking thing. I stare at him, both bemused and shocked, before swallowing and nodding. 'Leonard,' I tell him, slipping my shoes back off of my feet. 'I'm going to hug you now'.

I do, not surprised at all with how stiff his arms feel around me. My forehead presses solidly against his chest, and the sweet smell of that cologne invades my senses. He is hard and sharp; all muscle and sharp bones and a stiff, upright posture. After a moment and a grumble from me for him to bloody relax, he does. His arms go loose around me, looping around my waist and drawing me in, until his chin comes to rest on top of my head.

'Shall I sneak out in the morning?' I inquire, voice muffled against his dark shirt.

'Probably,' he agrees, deep voice vibrating through his chest.

I snort. '...This is all very scandalous, isn't it?'

'...You're damn _hilarious_ '.

'I've told you,' I reply, tugging my head away from his chest and blinking up at him, a tired smile gracing my features. He looks down at me, brow furrowed and cocked at the same bloody time. 'I know that'.

He sighs and tugs me back, informing me that he would replicate me a toothbrush, even though mine was just next door. He pushes me toward the bathroom first with a quick, ' _Ladies first_ ', before telling me that he will change. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and stare into the pale and exhausted looking reflection that stares back at me. Perhaps some natural daylight from Earth would do be good.

When I approach the bedroom, the door wide open, I blink at the array of books piled high on the desk in the furthest part of the room, as well as the open wardrobe where a billion blue shirts were lined up. I stare across the room at Leonard, who stand on one side of the double bed with an unsure expression on his face. I snort, whilst he ruffles his hair.

'This is bloody awkward,' I tell him, to which he throws me a dry look. 'Look, I think we're past being embarrassed, huh? To tell you the truth, if I have one more nightmare about that bunker, I might go mad. You're doing me a favour here. Sharing a bed with someone makes me sleep a whole lot sounder. That's our reason for this, right?' It's a reason - an excuse for this _thing_ we have going on. He doesn't agree, but instead all but looks at me like I am a mad woman when I begin tugging off my bra from underneath my shirt. I don't blame him. It is, quite possibly, the least attractive thing I have done all day. 'I'm not sleeping with this thing on,' I grumble, snagging it through the sleeve of my shirt and tucking in beneath the bed.

He waits for me to clamber into the bed first and find my own space, before following suite. I do _not_ , of course, go bloody dizzy at the overwhelming scent of him surrounding me, _nor_ do I take a not so subtle peak at the exposed arms displayed before me as he climbs beneath the covers. He looks away from me when I tug off my jeans beneath the covers, only turning to me when I flatten my head against the pillow.

I stare at him, and he stares right back.

'I suppose this isn't really normal, is it?' I ask, whispering for some odd reason.

The Doctor throws me a wry smile. 'No, darlin', I invite all the charity cases we rescue into my damn bed,' he replies, voice laced with sarcasm. I snort and go to punch his shoulder lightly, but he catches the weak threat with quick fingers and sharp eyes. He pauses for a moment, fingers loosely grasping my wrist and brow furrowed, with narrowed eyes directed only at me, before he sighs. 'Y'aint a charity case, y'know that. C'mere,' he mutters.

I offer a scoff when he tugs me to him, my bare legs hitting his covered one and my arm landing across his broad and warm chest. He smells wonderful, I decide. Beneath my ear, which rests on his chest, I hear the telltale signs of a heart beat. I know that, no, this isn't really normal at all. It is best, really, if our odd little friendship remains entirely unsaid. Maybe...maybe until everything had blown over.

That much was for sure.

'I'm sorry I died on you,' I murmur, the front of my body pressed against the side of his. He shifts so that his other arm wraps around my form, and the other still holds the wrist that he had tugged across his chest.

I'm half asleep when he finally replies, his fingers tracing circles along my pulse-point. 'I forgive you, sweetheart'.

* * *

 **So. Fluff. So much fluff. I really love writing a kind of friendship dependency before entering romance stuff, you know? I like to think friendship is so important before romantic feeling. It makes things stronger. I want them to really know each other. Still a slow burn guys. I can tell you that much.**

 **Also, oh my God, the reviews. I cannot even thank you guys enough. They were gr8. Honestly, soemthing as simple as 'cool' or 'good' or 'oi this was shite' each chapter would be amazing! I'm not expecting full length reviews (but to those of you who give me them, I know who you are and I love you for taking the time to write them), so thank you.**

 **I hope you guys like this! Someone mentioned they expected this story to end after the portal. Oh, no. No, no, no. I like to think that Chapter 17 was the end of the Part 1 of 3 of June's story. There's a long way to go, amigos!**


	21. Tiny Dancer

_Hold me closer tiny dancer_  
 _Count the headlights on the highway_  
 _Lay me down in sheets of linen_  
 _You had a busy day today_

Tiny Dancer - Elton John

* * *

'Sweetheart'.

I start from my deep sleep with a light snore and the side of my face pressed into a pillow that smells sweet and strong. It takes me a moment to understand where I was, and who exactly was standing beside the bed I was sprawled out on. I blink up at the already dressed Doctor, my hands curled next to my face and my legs spread beneath the warm, cocoon of covers.

I blink blearily up at him, from his blue shirt to his brushed hair. My mouth doesn't seem to want to work, so I instead throw Leonard a lazy thumbs up and flop my head back down onto the pillow.

'Ya talk in your sleep,' he tells me, reaching to the bedside table to throw on his watch. I watch his hands with blurry eyes. He had fucking _nice hands._ I wrinkle my nose, to which he cocks a brow and places his hands on his hips. 'You bein' quiet for once? Christ, if only you had been like that in the night-'

I scoff and reach up to rub at my eyes. It takes a hell of a lot of willpower to not snicker at his comment. 'What the fuck did I _say?'_

'Think I vaguely remember somethin' about how I couldn't just _bloody buy Canada-'_

I laugh loudly and roll onto my back, my limbs _stretching_ as I jostle the stiffness of sleep from my body. 'Was that your English accent?' I scoff. Leonard watches me, and I blush under his gaze. 'I wasn't _wrong_ , technically'. I peer at the clock on his bedside table, squinting at the numbers. _04:45 AM._ 'I'll go in a second,' I tell him, sleep falling from my mind and instead being replaced by the reality that I was currently in Leonard McCoy's _bed._

I throw the covers aside as the Doctor stands back and allows me to swing my legs over the side of the bed. I clamber to my feet, my vision fuzzing for just a moment as the blood rushes to my head, before I blink up at him as he stands just before me. I frown, about to ask why he has that funny look on his face, but remember with an _oh shit_ flitting across my mind that I had elected to forget the fact I was clad in just my plain black underwear and black top.

'Well,' I deadpan, at McCoy's cocked brow and smirk. I nod and look up at him, my cheeks hot. 'I _may_ have forgotten I wasn't wearing anything else'.

He shrugs, starting with one shoulder and then the other, his eyes not leaving mine. The smirk, an expression which I had seen on his face so rarely, only grows. My face, if possible, seems to grow even hotter as we stare at each other, and I suddenly become _very_ aware of the fact that he was just a few inches from me, wearing that _very well-fitting_ uniform. And, oh God, my hair was probably a fucking _wreck._

'I ain't complainin', sweetheart,' he mutters. I blink solidly and gape, unsure if I had misheard him, but the Doctor's gaze tears away from mine when a low noise comes from beyond the bedroom door and a very recognisable voice sings,

 _'Booones?'_

Whilst I yelp and turn toward Leonard with a hopeless expression, the CMO merely sighs in annoyance and rolls his eyes sky high, before grabbing his PADD and Comm from the table and sliding them into his pockets. He turns to me, the smirk gone and his usual stern expression falling across his features. 'In a damn second, Jim!' His voice is quiet when he speaks again. 'Sleep longer if you want to. It's damn _unholy_ wakin' up at this hour'. I nod, swallow, and watch the door, wondering how the hell he was remaining so calm. Leonard steps forward, and I turn back to him. He watches me closely, his brow furrowed and something like apprehension flitting back and forth on his face. I, in turn, open my mouth to ask him what the fuck was wrong and why wasn't he _going? Jim could come in!_

The muscles in his jaw jumps, and the wrinkle between his eyebrows becomes even more indented, before he moves with a jerk. It is then that he reaches down to clasp my fingers with his, draws my hand up to his mouth, and press a very warm, very soft kiss to the inside of my wrist. I'm sure he does not miss the way the two lights running above his bed frame flicker for just a nano-second.

I think I flat-line.

He pulls away, breath ghosting the skin of my wrist, and smirks. 'I'll see you later, sweetheart. Make sure to see Jommin again - and Jim and I did _not_ talk to Scotty yesterday. _Nor_ did we tell them that, with proper supervision, we were sure you'd have a damn good time lookin' about Engineering again around one o'clock'.

I grin, my face hot, and squeeze his hand in the only form of thanks that I can manage in that moment.

He smiles a half-smile, drops my hand, and turns solidly on his heel with another eye roll when Jim calls for him again, insisting that he needed to talk to _his_ CMO before the Alpha shift started. I step back when the door opens, catching only a small glimpse of Jim flipping through one of Leonard's books, his head bowed, before the blue shirted Doctor steps through the door and leaves me behind, a sharp bark on his tongue directed to his Captain.

'Right,' I mutter, trying to process what the fuck had just happened. The door slides shut, and I hear the tell-tale signs of the two men talking. Jim, in a teasing tone and Leonard in angry mutterings. 'Right. Okay'.

I lean down and grab my jeans from the floor and tug them on, before blinking blearily around me. Although Leonard had offered for me to stay and sleep, I did _not_ want to overstay my welcome. He was probably being a typical Southern gentleman.

Not that I had ever _met_ one before. But still.

I wait until I hear silence from the other room, before quickly making the bed and padding through to the living area. The replicator was still whirring, and the scent of coffee still lingered in the air. _Well,_ I think. _This is odd._ Maybe, though, it felt so odd because it _didn't_ feel odd at all. Did that make any sense? Leonard asking me to stay the night, whilst awkward and out of character, didn't feel _odd._ Bloody sleeping with my arm draped over his chest like a damn limpet _didn't feel odd._

I was getting _far_ too attached.

I gather my shoes and slip them on, rubbing my eyes and pitying the poor Doctor who started his shift at _05:00 AM._ I thought my nine o'clock lectures and seminars were bad. It is as I am blinking around the book cluttered living area, checking that I had not somehow started a fire in the few minutes I had been in the room, that I see the music player.

Jommin had one in her Quarters, too. It seemed like the type of thing that was not supplied by Starfleet, but instead brought onto the ship from home. I bit my lip, glance toward the front door, and make my way toward the device after some moments pause. It was scratched and old looking; far different from Jommin's sleek silver and cube one, with the tiny screen on the front and the tiny holes where the noise came out.

Leonard's was a dark brown and placed in the corner of the living area, tucked beyond the dining table and placed neatly atop a small, sleek looking table. It seemed oddly out of place among the Enterprise's modern and clean looking furniture and architecture; a bit of the gruffness of Leonard amongst the Quarters that, other than the scattering of books, did not seem to be personal to the Doctor at all.

I crouch in front of the music device and squint at the shape of it (flat and square like a record player but looking nothing like what at all at the same time), and run my finger of the sleek, black front. Just like that, a tiny red dot appears on the front of it, and I grin.

I was really starting to get the hang of this _future_ stuff.

I lick my lips and say, 'Play music'. The device pauses, as if thinking, before the blaring beat of _Super Trooper_ comes pouring from an unknown part of the device. I jump, snort, and imagine Leonard fucking McCoy listening to this song.

 _That_ would not do.

After choosing a song and telling the device to pause, I snatch a piece of paper and a pen from his desk and write a quick, messy note and slam it on top of the music player, before sneaking back to my room and grabbing just an hour more of sleep.

 _I'll lay off about your terrible music taste if you listen to this. If you don't like this band, you are well and truly dead inside. I'll try and not to end up in your Sick Bay today when I'm down in Engineering. If you're reading this and I do, well, sorry._

 _JA._

* * *

I don't know what possesses me to do it. Perhaps it was Jommin's visit just an hour ago (she had, apparently, elected to knock on my door at _7 AM_ and perch on the side of my bed as I blinked groggily up at her), where she had insisted that continuing my log would help me process my thoughts. Perhaps it was the fact that I had two hours until the Alpha shift finished their lunch break, and Scotty's message had told me to meet him in Engineering then.

 _Lassie,_ he written, the message pinging on my Comm when Jommin had been here. She had been curious and pleased once I told her it was the Chief Engineer, insisting that communicating with someone in my chosen field of interest would make me begin to feel a whole lot more like this universe could become familiar to me. _I think it would be a splendid idea for you to test out those Engineering skills of yours and have a proper look around the Enterprise. Meet me outside Engineering. I'm sure you remember where it is. I'll see you then. MS._

I had time to waste and, apparently, I would waste that time writing down my very jumbled array of thoughts. There was no cohesion to my words; only everything that I felt the need to write down. _My mother had red hair,_ I write. _Like me. My father had a beard. I was an Engineer in training. I went to Oxford University after years of working my arse off and proving all of the teachers wrong who insisted that I was far too distracted to get far academically. I'm a Libra - intelligent, calm, tactful. God knows where I went wrong, then. I live in the year 2260, despite being born in 1994. Jesus. Seeing those two numbers together makes me realise how long it's been since then. Still, I guess, the 1994 here was very different from the 1994 of my Universe. In my Universe, we didn't have World War III. My dad always liked to learn about the wars. The Civil War, more than any of them. I remember him telling me that nearly 60% of the deaths in the war were actually due to disease. That wouldn't happen now. Not in this time. Everything here is clean and new; and I am the old and odd things in the midst of it. Odd, I guess, because I can move things with my mind. I can hurt people with my mind. I can see things in my dreams; a place a like to call the Dark Place for one. It is wet and cold and seems so fucking real. I suppose I better start adding that to the interesting things about me, huh? That's going to be good conversation starter down on Earth, when I have no fucking clue what people are taking about. **Hi, I'm June Adams. I'm twenty-four, an Engineer, and I have this weird thing where I move shit with my mind. An outcome of when** **I was kidnapped by a total nut-job, rescued by a spaceship filled with move-star attractive, annoyingly intelligent and so fucking**_ **nice _people, and then found out I was in the future_. **_I'm sure that will go down well. I'm fucking scared, too. I'm scared about being alone after all of this. I'm scared that I'm going to fuck this up somehow. Fuck Bates. Fuck those other Doctors. And fuck that Maria woman for not getting me out of there sooner._

I blink at the screen.

 _I didn't mean that. I would still be there if it wasn't for her. Or dead. Probably dead._

I sigh, flipping my PADD and from my lap and leaving the pointless words that no one will read blinking up at me from the screen. The more I thought on it, the more terrified I was about going back to Earth. The only thing getting me through it was the fact that it would be the _one_ way I would give Bates what he deserved. Bates, the man who was so close to me...locked up in that cell...

I wasn't worried. There was no way he was getting out.

I sit, legs crossed and expression glum, on the couch in my living area. The Enterprise is silent around me, and I think of the hundreds of members of the crew milling about the ship in their coloured uniforms, so intelligent and happy and focused solely on their jobs. I missed that. I missed getting my hands dirty and living for what I did. I missed learning. I missed being _useful_.

 _You are useful. Think of what you can do now. You have a whole new **something** to learn, idiot._

I frown and chew the inside of my mouth, thinking over everything. I was scared to use my... _abilities._ After I had dropped the ship out of warp, I was terrified something like that would happen again. Every time my heart tugged when I thought of home, I panicked that I would make the lights flicker so hard the bulbs (or whatever the fuck powered them) might burst. Still, ever since the Portal, the nagging in the back of my mind, the _power_ , seemed more of a low hum. Weak, but there.

I swallow, raise my hand and spread my fingers, and think. _The cup._ I look at said cup, sitting idly on the counter top, and swallow tightly. It was light; nothing like the sheer effort it had taken to close the Portal, nor like what it had taken to...to hurt those two men. I could lift it with my hands, so why not with this new, different muscle I had inside of me? _Move,_ I think, spreading my fingers even further and studying each curved edge of the simple little cup. **_Move._**

I bolt to my feet when it fucking _does,_ a gleeful grin spreading across my features as the white cup skids suddenly across the counter, stopping just at the edge. 'Ha!' I punch the air, jump up once, and grin like a fucking maniac. _It worked._ A tiny feat, but it has fucking _worked._ If I could show Starfleet that I could control it...then maybe they would understand that I wasn't dangerous...

I spin on my my heel, squint at the sofa, and jut my head sideways sharply, laughing gleefully when the pillow gives a pathetic shove, flopping heavily onto his front and away from the corner of the sofa. I grin even wider, wiping heavily at the sudden of bead of blood from my nostril, before swallowing and flopping down onto the opposing couch, my head throbbing slightly.

'I can do this,' I mutter, nodding and staring at the floor.

And do it, I would.

* * *

'-That is to say, the Enterprise is the best of the best when it comes to Federation ships. Starfleet doesn't know half o' the stuff I've been doin' this this beautiful lady'. Scotty turns neatly on his heel, throwing me a quick grin as he spreads his arms. We were walking along a catwalk amongst the various turbines that surrounded us, many feet above the floor. 'Half of what I've done isn't exactly... _allowed,_ per-say. The Captain lets me and my crew go off on our own a little - oi! What are you _doin_ ' up there?'

I blink in the direction of the green and odd little man I had seen following Scotty a few times around the ship. His eyes, which creeped the fuck out of me, travel from myself to the Engineer. He was sitting on the edge of a railing where I'm _pretty_ sure no one was allowed to go. Beneath him ran a few clear water turbines which bubbled and whooshed with water. The alien man grunts something and bites into the sandwich in his hand, before throwing Scotty a rather rude hand gesture.

'Little wanker,' the Scotsman mutters, shoulders hunched as he turns back to me.

I snort. 'Hey, what was that _thingy_ the woman back there was using?' I inquire, jutting my thumb in the direction of where a lot of the Engineering crew buzzed about. 'The Flux thing-'

'Ah! The Flux Generator!' Scotty hums, nodding and crossing his arms over his red shirt. I blink briefly at the insignia and the colour, wondering for a split second what the shirt would look like on _me._ I brush the thought aside when he continues speaking. 'It's a nifty wee thing. Mostly used by Science Officers and Engineers - not tha' those stuffy bastards use it for anythin' _good_. They employ little spin-polarized bilonium coils to generate variable tetryon fields, y'see. Fields like that' alter the transmission of various high-energy phenomena by, er, _minutely_ modifyin' the structure of normal space-'

I follow the words the best I can, trying to link my own knowledge to that of modern Engineering. ' _Sooo_ ,' I murmur, brow furrowed so hard I'm _sure_ I'm going to pull a muscle. 'It's like...It's analysing, altering, or _completely disrupting_ shit like force fields, wormholes - stuff like that?'

Scotty grins. 'Yes, lassie! Ah, you're a smart one, _aren't_ ya?'

I preen a little at that, I won't lie.

'You're gonna like this one, I think. I've been playin' around a little with Continuum stuff - feel like lookin' at somethin' I've got my team workin' on-?'

'What kind?' I ask, already following him along the cat-walk. I was fucking _elated_ to be here, amongst people who thought like me. There was nothing _fancy_ in Engineering. There was no forced politeness or curious stared; everyone just got on with their own thing and respected those who deserved respect. It was rough work with rough hands, and I fucking _loved it._ Scotty looks over his shoulder to throw me a secret look and tells me. ' _Rheaology_? Oh, _God-'_

'Aye! Tryna get rid of some fluid materials where the ship gets the most stress. Maybe understand how we can get some materials with elasticity, but don't pertain to the bleedin' stress this ship puts on half the equipment down here-'

'That's brilliant!' I hurry to walk next to his quick steps along the cat-walk, like a fucking puppy. 'Talk to me about that! I want to know _everything_ about all the new materials introduced by other planets! There must be so many more now, right? I read up on that Dilithium crystals are _super_ essential for the whole 'warp speed' thing-'

Scotty snorts as he hops down a flight of stairs. 'Christ, lassie. I can understand why the good Doctor asked me to bring you down here. You don't stop askin' question, d'you? I _like it._ C'mon. I'll _show you_ rather than tell you'.

I stall only briefly. _Leonard_ had asked for me to come down here, huh? The way the Doctor had said it, it was more Jim's idea than his. I swallow my smile and follow Scotty, pushing aside thoughts on the grumbling, grumpy Doctor and his brittle exterior, instead hopping down onto the last step and grabbing onto the railing, just a few steps behind Scotty. The busy Engineering deck hums around me, a room filled with the most magnificent of minds and equipment; all of me to learn about-

And then the metal grating underneath my feet shifts, and I am not in Engineering anymore. I'm stuck in front of a Portal with my fingers wrapped around the rusting railing, my feet shaking on the unstable catwalk and Leonard shouts for me and my heart hammers in my chest and the Portal is _growing and growing-_

I blink and I am back in Engineering again, my mouth dry and toes tripping on the holes in the grating. I right myself before Scotty notices, pushing aside the terrible memory and surging forward, vowing to not mention that to anyone. I didn't need Jommin thinking I was suffering from the memory - I _wasn't._ The catwalk I was on just reminded me of the bunker for a second, is all.

Right now, I didn't want to think about the Portal or my abilities. Right now, I wanted to focus on the world of Engineering and the lingo and, _oh_ , the sound of the world whirring around me felt so much like _home_.

For just an hour, I wanted to be the June Adams before she fell through the Portal.

* * *

Perhaps it was the memory of the catwalk. Perhaps it was the feeling of feeling useful and confident after sharing knowledge with Scotty and wondering, just maybe, if I could master _this thing,_ too. Maybe I wasn't as dangerous as I thought.

Maybe I could prove Bates wrong, and _control this._

The chair strains against my muscles; as if they were lifting the object themselves. It fucking _hurts._ I can feel the blood running from my nose to my upper lip, but I ignore it, intent upon getting the chair just three inches above ground. My fingers shake and my palms sweat, but I dip my head and think even harder; I push even harder, and-

There is knock at the door and the chair comes clattering to the floor with a noise that is just so _dramatically_ loud. There is beat in which I blink, my heart thumping with exertion, before a beeping sound is coming from my door and it is siding open, revealing the tense and agitated face of Leonard. He appears rigid, his sharp eyes flitting around to look for the source of the noise. I blink, mouth popping open, before glancing from him to the chair, which had fallen on its side.

I practically _see_ the realisation dawn on his features.

'Er,' I blink, as he steps into my Quarters and the door swooshes shut behind him. 'Hello'. He keeps his eyes narrowed and doesn't reply, his hazel eyes travelling slowly about the living area, before coming to land on my face. I, in return, swipe quickly at the blood of my nose, wincing when it smudges across the back of my hand like oil paint. He takes another step in, and it's my turn to scowl at him, now. 'So, you're going to invite yourself into my Quarters and then not _say_ anything-?'

'The hell were you doin', June?' I quieten down, assessing his expression. He looked worried, in the worst kind of way. Despite having such a long shift, a daily occurrence for him, the Doctor looked barely ruffled. His hair was still styled and his uniform still pressed. All looked well, aside from the bags under his eyes, the tenseness of his jaw, and the way those sharp eyes seemed to stare straight into mine.

 _He's pissed off._ 'I need to learn how to control it,' I tell him, voice level and calm. I wipe again at my nose, before sniffing and starting for the chair, trying my hardest to avoid his gaze as I yank it back into position. 'I _need_ to-'

He growls in frustration, storming forward and stopping a few feet from me and watching as I spin on my heel, my brow furrowed and my fists clenched. Leonard purses his lips, before shaking his head and jutting his brow up, his hands thrown out in front of him as he animates his words. 'It's damn dangerous and you _know_ it-'

I tilt my head, an expression of mock concern flitting across my features. 'Oh, _is it?'_ I snap back. 'I wasn't aware. So, would we rather that I _don't try and understand it,_ and instead just let it _pop out_ whenever I get too angry or upset or you-' _You fucking kiss my hand like some damn corny romantic comedy, you twat._ I swallow and glare and point a finger instead. Of course, words are lost on me, so instead look like some angry old woman pointing for the kids to get off her lawn.

Leonard sighs and runs a hand through his head, his eyes rolling. 'Darlin', you _know_ what I mean when I say you don't know what the hell these... _this_ can do. You may _think_ you know what you're doin'-'

' _Oh, don't condescend me, mister._ That's the _point,'_ I snap. 'I'm trying to _understand_. Once they figure out I have no fucking clue how to control it, Starfleet will lock me away and do what Bates did-'

Queue another dramatic eye-roll. 'Don't be so damn _stupid_ -!'

I gape. 'Don't call me stupid, you twat!'

'Then stop bein' so damn dramatic, June!'

'I am _not._ I am _defending_ my decision making, _Leonard_ _!'_ I hiss in a sigh, glare at him, and wave my hand toward the door. 'Why the hell are you even here? Because you _care?_ Good lot that's going to fucking do - tomorrow we'll be on Earth and I'll be some fucking _witness_ for _him._ Then...then after that fucking trial you'll _leave_ '. I shake my head, detesting how fucking _weak and sad_ I seemed. Wow. Turns out I had some repressed thoughts that were just _fighting_ to get out. 'Go,' I tell him, spinning my glare back on him. ' _Go_ ,' I repeat. 'I'm pissed off and I'm taking it out on you-'

I wave my hand then, and he stumbles back, his brow cocking even further and his baffled expression coming to land on my face. I try and relax my features into a look that isn't completely struck by what had just happened. Leonard doesn't mention it, nor does he seem frightened that I had just pushed him without touching him, despite the utter mortification on my features. He takes a step toward me. 'Ya can't damn _punish_ me because I've got a job to do. I ain't gonna stop carin' just so it's _easier_ on you when you have to say goodbye. You gotta damn _grow up,_ June-'

My eyes narrow, my hand and coming up again to flick him away, but he surges toward me before I can do such a thing, his fingers curling around my wrist and drawing it to his chest, his nose nearly touching mine. I swallow, my head inclined back to look up at him and my nose nearly touching his, as I tug my hand from his loose grasp, only to have his fingers tug me right back.

When I meet his gaze, I swallow again.

I know the expression. Every man and woman knows the expression. It's intimacy. It's closeness. It's the question posed between hazel eyes and I wonder, just for a second, what this man _thought_ on a daily basis. I didn't know how much time I had left to know such things. I suddenly wanted to know every _little_ fact about him, from his icy exterior, to his life on Earth, to the way in which he held me with such a force, but never enough so that I could not escape his grasp. He held me to ground me, not to keep me.

His Adams Apple jumps in the sudden silence of the room, and my eyes flicker to the movement before going right back to his face. He looked tired. Over-worked. The stubble from a few days of not shaving was beginning to shine through, and when my free hand comes to run fingers over his skin, it feels as rough as it looks. Leonard breathes in deeply at the motion, his fingers dropping from my wrist and travelling down my arm, slowly and purposefully, our gazes still locked.

I would be surprised if he couldn't hear my heart doing the fucking _Cha Cha Slide_ in my chest.

We stand close, and it somehow feels closer than when we had been wrapped up together the night before. I think of his lips ghosting the inside of my wrist, and my body flares with warmth as my eyes travel to his lips, soft and lovely looking, before jumping right back to his eyes. His fingers find their way to my waist, spidering around until they land on the small of my back.

My own hands drops from his cheek and to his jaw, and I wonder if I had ever looked at someone like this before. I wonder if I ever would again.

'I'm sorry,' I murmur.

'C'mere,' he mutters, tugging me forward and bowing to press his face into the crook of my neck, and drawing our bodies close together. I grasp his shoulder, now my cheek pressed against his chest and the tips of my bare feet knocking against his boots. He smelt like Sick-Bay - clinical and too clean, but felt just as warm and solid as he always did. 'I'm sorry too, dammit'.

I know, then, that something had inevitably changed between us. Perhaps it had days ago.

The hug is different from the one we had shared before. Every line of our bodies are pressed close to one another, and I am so suddenly hyper aware of every part of my body and what I am doing with it, from the hand that rests on his shoulder, to the one that comes to snake lightly around his waist. _He's been married,_ I think, blinking against his chest and I feel him breathe against my hair. _He has a daughter. He is CMO of a prestigious ship. He's the best of the fucking best. He had published fucking texts. How could someone like him look at me?_

Weeks later, I would find that he had been thinking the exact same thing about me, the idiot.

'The more I practice,' I tell him, my fingers playing with the material of his Medical uniform. Said uniform feels soft against my cheek, and I am so overwhelmed by the scent of him. 'I'll know when it's getting too much. The more I can understand how to control this damn thing, the less likely I am to hurt anyone-' I shut my mouth. 'Jesus. I said _damn._ I'm spending far too much time with you'. He pulls his face away from my hair; drawing himself back so that he can look down at me. I turn to him, my expression resolute. '

He sighs after studying my face. 'You're a damn liability,' he informs me, gruff and matter-of-fact. 'You gotta promise me that you're gonna tell me when you feel like...well, when ya feel like you're going to get so pissed off that you're gonna shove someone with your damn mind again. _I_ can take it, but I'm pretty sure some other people might have a problem with it-'

'Fuck. I don't...I can't _believe_ I did that. I-' I shake my head, both mortified and shocked at myself that I had gotten so angry at him, that I had shoved him away. _You have killed to men with your mind. You don't know what you could have done._ 'You don't...' I mull the words in my head, thinking them over and wishing there was some way I could ask the question without sounding like I thought _far_ too much of myself. 'You're not scared of me, are you? I'm not going to _Carrie_ out on you. You know that I would never hurt any of you - it's part of me, and it _knows_ who I care about-'

The infamous brow cock shuts me right up. 'Sweetheart, I'm damn _terrified_ of you. That has _nothin'_ to do with your voodoo powers. Way I just saw you shoutin', I'm guessin' that you at only about twenty percent pissed off'.

I laugh and smack his shoulder lightly. 'Arsehole! I'm British. We shout a lot'. I watch the smile curl at his lips, and feel just a little breathless at the sight of it. Swallowing my sigh, I try to ignore the way his fingers stroke at the small of my back. _You can't get your hopes up. You have so much more to focus on._ 'Thank you for asking for asking Scotty to show me around Engineering. He told me it was you, not Jim'.

If possible for the Doctor, a blush seems to travel up his dark skin from the collar of his shirt. With a tight swallow and an annoyed look sideways (and I'm not sure I will ever understand him, because even in our tight embrace he has room look to look awkward at showing a different kind of caring), he mutters something akin to, ' _Damn_ sneaky Scotsman'.

I don't think before I surge upward, my feet bending into tiptoes, and a press a quick kiss to the side of his jaw, my smile wicked when I land back on my feet and blink up at him. I'm pretty sure that my sly look is completely ruined by the bright red of my cheeks, but oh well. Leonard stares down at me, not blinking and swallowing tightly.

'You're welcome,' he mutters. I shrug and step away from him, and he does the same, his fingers trailing along my waist as they drop away from me. There's a beat of silence. 'I came here,' he says finally, after staring at me with an expression of shock and apprehension. 'T'see if you wanted to join us down at the bar for a drink? We usually try and do it after just one shift a month-'

I try and look very much like I am not flattered by this. 'Oh'. _Is this a pity invite?_ 'Are you sure? I don't have to-'

'Scotty wants you there - quit bein' so damn odd and just say yes'. A darker look crosses his features, and the CMO crosses his arms over his chest and says in a rush, 'Plus, the little Russian ladies man obviously is quite damn taken with you-'

I shrug. 'Can't blame him. I'm quite the catch, with my suitcase of emotional baggage. I'll come, though'. I turn and head for my bedroom, my awkwardness entirely forgotten and nervousness at being invited to _drinks_ taking over. I go to a part of the room where he can't see me through the open door and begin tugging off my shirt. 'A social event _outside_ of you bugging me every day? Sounds like _heaven-'_

From the living area, I hear him grumble, 'You're hilarious'.

'Leonard,' I reply, already ridding myself of my standard black shirt and tugging one with a round neck rather than a high one on. After that, I pull off my leggings and yank on my jeans. 'I _know'._ After hurrying into the bathroom and yanking a brush through my hair, I speed back into the living area with a mighty grin and a quick nod. 'Right. I'm ready'.

The Doctor blinks. 'Your mood changes are going to give me damn whiplash'.

I shrug and begin slipping on my boots. 'PMS, most likely. Hey, _you're_ a Doctor-'

'Good Lord. You've caught on'.

'-Did you guys whip up some fancy medicine that just... _stops_ all of that from happening in the last 200 years? Because that would be _splendid_ -'

'PMS, huh?' The Doctor graces me with an unimpressed looks as I straighten up and push my curly hair behind my ears. He cocks a brow, uncrosses his arms, and looks as if he might be biting back a smirk. 'That _does_ explain a damn lot-'

'Oh, fuck _off_ , Leonard'. I am about to turn and head toward the door, but he coughs lightly and draws my attention back to him. I peer at his shifty expression, tense shoulders, and agitated shift of his eyes. 'What?' I blurt out. 'Why are you being weird-?'

'It would _seem,'_ Leonard starts, throwing me a sideways glance. 'That...dammit. When that _goblin_ did he Vulcan voodoo crap on you, it turns out he saw snippets of things beyond your time in the bunker'. He stares at me, as if expecting me to catch on, and then I _remember._ I had seen what Spock had seen, and in the rush and mayhem of the last few days, I had entirely forgotten.

'Oh, bugger'.

Leonard grunts. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. 'I damn near threatened him with surprise hypos and scheduled appointments, but he _insisted,'_ here, his voice begins to drip with sarcasm. 'That Jim, the _Captain_ , should know'. _Ah, fuck._ 'Don't worry too much - I told him that I'd tell Jim on Earth. That shut him up for a while. Still...Jim is gonna be pretty damn curious as to why we've been sharing a bed...It ain't exactly goin' with the rules of how we treat guests we've _rescued-_ '

I glower. 'Fucking _Christ_. Who knew Spock was such a damn _gossip_. If Jim wants to talk to someone, tell him to turn to me and I'll have a talk with him'. Whose fucking business was it why Leonard and I had shared a bed? 'There's not one moment of peace is there?' I sigh, to which Leonard gives a little shrug as if to say: _tell me about it._

'C'mon,' he mutters, urging me forward with an annoyed intake of breath. 'Let's get a damn drink. And what's with that darn note you left on my music player'?'

'You'll see'.

* * *

 **They're getting there. Slowly but surely.**

 **Anyway - I wanted some June/Bones talk about her powers because, yeah, people aren't just going to accept what she can do without thinking of what had happened in the past. Also, to anyone who is wondering if Spock Prime is going to come into the story...well. He just may do. If any has any suggestions of anything they want to see, I'm always open to fitting stuff in! I have everything planned, but I want my readers to feel like they can have an input.**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! I really appreciate people taking the time! I hope you guys liked!**

 **wtf almost 7000 words jfc**


	22. Seven Wonders

_If I live to see the seven wonders_  
 _I'll make a path to the rainbow's end_  
 _I'll never live to match the beauty again_

Seven Wonders - Fleetwood Mac

* * *

Being in the presence of people who were so obviously something akin to a family can make you miss your own.

It's obvious to see now, though it takes a good amount of side-eyeing and Leonard muttering to me that I was 'damn staring', that Mister Spock and Lieutenant Uhura are together. It's small things - perhaps mostly the fact that I had never seen the two interact before. They stay close to each other, with lingering glances and small touches of their fingers that I _know_ I had read up somewhere when I had been researching Vulcan relationships.

The Captain seems to have a deep, different relationship with everyone, and the Jim Kirk who I had been seeing more and more of (the laughing, happy, sarcastic and slightly annoying one) presents himself in front of me, sitting in front of the large window beside the bar and sharing a conversation with Scotty and Sulu. They're talking about something terribly fucking boring - some planet out in deep space called Yorktown that was almost finished being built.

'Take us three bleedin' years to get there, though,' Scotty grumbles, whilst I sit opposing Pavel Chekov who twitters on about something and wonder how the hell a _planet_ was built.

Leonard was over by the bar, pouring himself a drink and leaning over to say something to Nyota Uhura, a sly smile leaning across his features as he undoubtedly says something cruel to Spock. The Vulcan merely blinks back at the Doctor, his expression deadpan and his mouth a thin line. Uhura, to her credit, manages to hide her smile behind her clear drink.

'-It was ze Russians who actually found zat ze Garden of Eden was just outside Moscow. It vas very nice place,' muses the curly haired, admittedly pretty-looking man. He blinks over his clear liquid, which I had wanted to ask if it was vodka, but had not wanted to come across as _stereotyping_ or something, and nods knowingly toward me. 'It must've made Adam and Eve _very_ sad to leave, of _course_ '.

I blink at him, legs hanging over the side of the stool and cursing said legs for being short. I clock Leonard walking back toward us over the large windowed room (turns out Leonard hadn't been lying - there _was_ a bar on the ship), and reply to the Navigator, 'I really can't tell if you're taking the piss'.

He merely laughs heartily in response, his nose crinkling and his smile wide.

I jump when Leonard plonks a drink in front of me, just as the Russian man is distracted by Sulu calling for him, laughter in his eyes, and trying his hardest to explain something funny that Scotty had just said. 'Excuse me,' Chekov nods to me, before starting for the three men with an expectant look. I turn to look up at the Doctor, who holds a glass of amber liquid close to his lips and cocks a brow down at me.

'What?' I ask, fingers curling around the tall glass in front of me.

Leonard shrugs, before pulling the glass away from his mouth, licking his lips, and leaning against the table. 'Nothin', sweetheart'.

I hum, a disbelieving look on my face, before picking up the glass. 'Thank you...What is it?' He pointedly doesn't reply, so I take a sniff and grin, turning back to him with a little slap to the arm. 'How did you know I liked gin, huh?'

'Lucky guess'.

I hum yet again, before taking a sip of the drink and cringing at the taste at first. 'Jesus. Tastes a lot better than the cheap stuff I would drink at Uni. Hey, thank you for inviting me, by the way. And, er, sorry about earlier-'

'It's done, darlin'. What was Chekov talkin' about?' I half shrug at the, repeating the short and odd conversation, to which the Doctor snorts and rubs the smile from his face. 'Yeah. He tends to do that when he's had a drink. You enjoyin' yourself?'

I nod, taking a moment to glance around at the scattering of people. Further back into the large room, where other stools and tables were scattered, there were a few other crew members still in uniform talking quietly amongst themselves. Turning back to Leonard, I struggle to conceal my smile. 'God, yes'. I swallow, watching his gaze on me. 'We're going to arrive at Earth tomorrow, aren't we?'

The Doctor takes a moment, before nodding.

I nod in return, my gaze jumping from his to the table as I think, my words struggling to come out. 'And you...the crew will have to stay until a decision is made on Bates, and I've told them everything I know? You guys will have to wait?' Another nod, this one slower. The drinks sits uselessly in front of him, and hazel eyes are searching against my features. 'Yeah,' I mutter. 'I thought so. I... _you'll_ be there?' I regret the words the moment they come out. 'That's not me _asking_ you to be. You have a life on Earth, of _course_. Oh!' I clap my hands together lightly. 'Does this mean you'll get to see Johanna?'

The Doctor's jaw drops just slightly; a slackening of his whole expression that has me wondering if I have said something wrong. 'You...' He clears his throat, before straightening up and shaking his head at me, a softer smile on his features. 'I'm still workin' darlin', so I'll be in San Fran with you. Ain't goin' nowhere. Joanna's Ma said she can come and visit in three days for one day. She wasn't exactly _expectin_ ' me back so darn soon. I...' He swallows, his throat jumping, before he picks up his drink. 'Didn't think you'd be thinkin' of that'. He takes a deep swig, his gaze darting to the window where stars and space lay beyond.

I frown. 'God, am I _that_ much of an arsehole?'

A familiar dry look is thrown my way. 'Y'know what I damn well mean'.

In return, I toss him a sly smile and pick up my drink again, taking a smaller sip than last time. 'I know. What is that?' I nod to his drink and when he tells me that it is bourbon, I give an over-exaggerating gag. 'God, you're _such_ an old man-'

'Says you, ya damn old biddy. My Grandma would drink that stuff,' he juts his chin toward my drink, to which I press a hand to my heart and throw him a mock-offended look.

'I mean,' I tell him, fingers playing around the rim of my glass as I swing my legs underneath the table. I plaster on my most serious look, blinking up at the exasperated looking Doctor and trying to hide my wobbly smile that was threatening to break through. 'Technically speaking, I am 266'.

He stares at me for a good ten seconds, in which I slowly smile at him a raise my brow. 'That was terrible,' he informs me.

'That was _funny,'_ I inform him right back. 'You should listen to me. I have years of wisdom behind me-'

' _Stop'._

I snort out a laugh, just as an arm is thrown around my shoulder and the thick, Scottish accent of Scotty and the scent of whiskey invades my senses. 'Good Doctor!' The Scotsman says, throwing a pointed finger Leonard's way and tapping me on my shoulder. 'Y'should know - this one is just as damn smart as you said! Considerin' the near 250 years of Engineerin' evolution, Miss Adams here was keepin' up with my chatter _pretty_ darn well-'

'Barely,' I snort, my cheeks going pink. McCoy glances down at me, a smirk curling on his mouth and hazel eyes landing on me for just a moment longer. It is at that moment that the conversation between Jim, Mister Sulu and Chekov becomes louder, with Sulu pointing at Jim with an accusatory finger, whilst the Captain of the Enterprise shouts something about the Kobayashi Maru. 'What's _that_?' I inquire, taking a far too large sip of my straight gin. Not to sound like a twenty-four year old who only drank cheap spirits mixed with even cheaper drinks to fit my budget lifestyle, but _why_ would you drink straight gin? _Blugh_.

Scotty, thankfully, misses my heavy grimace, instead shouting something over at the conversation along the lines of, 'He's righ', Captain!'

I blink toward Leonard, who is far too busy squinting in an annoyed manner toward the animatedly talking Captain, who was not pointing toward the blank faced Spock. Still, the Doctor sighs sharply and turns toward me, his broad frame doing a complete ninety degree turn to face me, whilst his elbow leans heavily against the table. 'Some damn test at the Academy that Jim took three times too God damn many. It's a simulation - designed to be a _no win-'_

 _'Bones,_ I can _hear_ you-'

'Ya damn _cheated_ , Jim-'

'I must agree with Doctor McCoy, Captain-'

'Well, you would say that, Spock! You designed the thing!'

'Do _not_ agree with me on _anythin'_ -'

' _Oh_ ,' Uhura sighs, elbowing Spock lightly in the side. 'Will you three be quiet? Captain, with all due respect, it's been two years - you cheated. Hikaru - how _is_ Demora?'

The amused looking Helmsmen avoids the Captain's stern stare, and instead tells of his daughter and husband and how they were readying themselves to move soon. Conversation spatters around then, as Scotty all but drags Ensign Chekov over and starts asking whether the Navigator would like to see the odd looking drink he had obtained from that 'planet with the shiny sand'. Jim shuffles over to Spock and Uhura, the latter of whom rolls her eyes and hides her smile behind her drink.

'How was work?'

The Doctor blinks away from whatever thoughts he had been mulling over as he had stared over at his friends, his drink in hand, and turns to me. After a pause, he replies, 'Some Engineer nearly hacked their whole finger off-'

'Oh, _God-'_

He shrugs. 'M'Benga dealt with it. I had the joy of paperwork for most of the day'. He peers at me curiously, those heavy brows coming to knit together in an almost accusing manner. 'The rest of my day was spent dealin' with some stubborn ass who can't help but make her life more difficult-'

I nod, the picture of seriousness. 'Oh, really?' The Doctor hums, sips his drink, and turns away from me with a cocked brow and a tugging of his mouth. 'You're an _arse_ ,' I inform him. 'Oh, also, around visiting Engineering and making chairs levitate, I had a look at one of your papers. The one about Noradrenaline and the flight or flight response and all of that? You're fucking _smart._ I mean, I know the basics of medical, with having to look at artificial tissues, organs, or organ components with Bio-Engineering, and although I understood around _sixty percent_ of what you were saying, it was _good_ -'

Leonard throws me a dry look. 'I'll try and take that as a damn compliment'.

'It was quite fun, really,' I inform him, spinning in my chair a little to face him and sipping at my quickly emptying glass. 'I just imagined you actually saying the words'. I scrunch my brow, slap a frown on my face, and attempt a Georgian accent. 'A variety of _damn_ medically important _darn_ drugs work by alterin' the _dang_ actions of Norepinephrine systems-' I all but snort at the pointed expression on the Doctor's face. 'Sorry,' I muffle out, rubbing the smile off of my face.

It is at the moment that Mister Spock stops by the table, nodding to both myself and the slowly turning Doctor (who seemed to be assessing the Vulcan with a look of curiosity and offence), and says, 'Miss Adams. I would like to once again extend my,' he pauses. '...Pleasure to seeing you well and alive'.

I blink, try very hard not to laugh in a wildly inappropriate way, and reply in a high-pitched voice, 'Oh. _Thank_ you, Mister Spock'.

He nods. 'It was also my wish to to engage in conversation with you in the short time that the crew may remain in your company on Earth'. His voice, level and bland, matches perfectly with the blunt of his fringe, the seriousness of the brown eyes, and the way in which he tips is head just slightly. I, myself, merely try to look at him without a baffled expression. 'It has come to my attention that, upon conversing with my Alternate self, something similar occurred in the universe from which he hailed. I was also informed that he held...respect to the June Adams of his universe-'

'Spock, dammit, what has Lieutenant Uhura told you about _subtlety-'_

I am too busy gawking at the calm Vulcan to even acknowledge Leonard. 'Leonard mentioned that, but, he never said that I - this happened _there too?_ What did he _tell_ you? Can _I_ talk to him? How long did he _know_ me? _How did it-?'_

'Ambassador Spock has insisted to keep such information private, as to not hinder the way in which this universe should move forward-'

I stutter and stumble over my words, too overwhelmed by the information (there was someone out there who knew things about me; things even I did not know yet and, somehow, my mind kept wandering to the sight of Leonard with blue eyes and myself with lines on my face - who had _they_ been?), to which Leonard grumbles, 'Well done, Spock. You've damn broken her'.

The Vulcan bows his head, none-too-bothered. 'That was not my intention. I merely wished to share with you the information I felt you deserved to know before I departed for my Quarters. Doctor McCoy, Miss Adams - I will see you aboard the shuttle tomorrow'. He goes, just like that. A stiff nod, hands clasped behind his back, and a quick farewell to the Captain before departing swiftly from the room.

I choke on my tongue for a good few seconds, whilst Leonard grumbles about the First Officer. 'How can he tell me that?' I croak. 'And then just _leave?'_

'Meet _Spock'._ I blink at the back of the Doctors head when he nods goodbye to Uhura and Scotty. When he turns back around, sipping the last of his drink, and cocks a dramatic brow at me. 'You alright there, sweetheart?' I glare. 'Good. He told me a few days ago, but I...For some damn reason, _he_ wanted to be the one to tell you-'

'This was always going to happen,' I mutter, dazed and slightly. I turn to look up at Leonard, my legs suddenly feeling quite wobbly, despite the fact I was sitting down. 'I was always going to meet you people'.

He stares at me for a long moment, before saying, 'I'm gonna head back to my Quarters-' He cuts himself off for the briefest of moment, but long enough for me to notice, before adding. 'Ain't no chance I'm gonna be sleeping any time soon. Never can the night before we land somewhere - call it Doctors intuition that someone's gonna get hurt-'

'We're landing on Earth,' I point out. 'Not the surface of the _Sun'._

'-And I was _wonderin'_ if you would like to join me in my Quarters, you damn sarcastic brat. I'm only gonna be goin' through paperwork and whatnot, but-'

'How important is the paperwork?' I inquire. I already knew my answer. After what Mister Spock had told me...and with what was going to happen tomorrow...well, I'd rather some company than stewing silently in my empty Quarters.

'What?' I repeat the question. He squints. 'Standard. Borin' - _nothin_ ' special, just stuff Jim wants sortin', basic protocol-'

'Can I put a film on?'

An even more dramatic squint, but with a twist of his lips. I knew why. The first time I had called a holo that, he had snappily told me that my age was showing. I sip the last of my gin. Jim laughs loudly at something Sulu and Chekov had said. 'What kind?'

'I really have an itching to watch _Alien_ '.

* * *

I'm a fucking cliche.

I try hard to focus on the film. My shoes were off and Leonard had offered me a glass of water and an extra pillow for the sofa as he lingered by the dining table, tapping away at his PADD. Still, that terrible _thing_ inside of me that apparently had the thirst of a sixteen year old sex-pest was trying very hard not to glance over at the Doctor, his hair mussed and his sharp eyes scanning over the words on the PADD as he mouthed the words on the screen back to himself.

How. Just... _how_ and _why_ did he have to look so fucking _nice_ all the time? I, on the other hand, was a walking poster for why stress was not only a mental thing, but a _physical_ thing. I swear to God, my hair is _greying._

A dramatic scream cuts through the silence, and I watch with a slight grimace as the Alien bursts through the stomach of the poor character. 'Bummer,' I mutter, chewing at my thumbnail.

'I forgot how damn stupid this is-'

I turn to him with a solid glare. 'Do _not,'_ I warn him. 'You know what? You're going to have to show me the shit you watch one day, with the way you keep insulting _my_ film taste'.

His gaze slides back to the PADD, and I turn back to the holo. With a few minutes, he's inquiring with a lazy tone, 'Ya nervous about tomorrow?'

'...Kinda,' I shrug, eyes still glued on the screen. 'It's home, but it isn't. It's weird'.

He hums. The silence stretches, and I continue to watch the film and assume he had gone back to his work. 'Where did you do your growin' up - Suffolk, ain't it?' I turn slowly, confused, before nodding. The Doctor, a shifty look on his face, nods and swallows. 'Thought so'.

'Why?'

He slouches back over his PADD, his shoulders set with his usual stiffness and his face hidden from me. 'I wanted to know. That alright?'

'Yes, _Grumpy'._

I turn back to the film, and we settle into a silence, broken only by the screeching and horror coming from the holo in front of me. I watch it hungrily. I had already looked up certain things, mostly relating to pop-culture, that didn't even exist in this Universe. It's sounds stupid, considering the amount I've lost, but simple things like a movie are never-changing; they held proof of something that was similar to my home. Something that, for even a sparse amount of time, I could grasp onto for some semblance of normality.

My mum and dad were huge film fanatics. It was how they met. It was some dorky Film Club in their last year of the University they went to, in Lincoln. They said they went that week because the Club was showing _Back to the Future,_ a favourite of both of theirs. And no, the irony is not lost on me. They graduated in 1990. Four years later, they had me. I grew up on films and soundtracks, grasping onto the beauty of something caught on screen, repeated and repeated until the video tape would catch and fuzz from rewinding certain scenes far too much.

I swallow and try to focus on the holo.

Ellen Ripley saves the day, and I think about how long ago this film was made. How it challenged so many stereotypes. Women, I think, can be so fucking strong in times of turmoil. They can survive. They can adapt. As the credits roll, I cling to this fact. _Tomorrow,_ I think, hands clasped in my lap and jaw tight. _You will adapt._

Tomorrow, I will be on Earth, and my new life will begin.

 _Or be decided for me._

Well, fuck that.

I jump when Leonard speaks. 'You fallen asleep there?'

I peak over the sofa and shake my head. I wasn't even tired. I was too fucking wired and scared and thinking about Bates, somewhere on this ship, and what would happen to him. What would happen to _me?_ 'No,' I tell him. 'I can go to my room, though, if you're ready to go to bed-'

He waves a lazy hand my way. 'Pick somethin' else. I've got a few more documents, still'. He leans back, legs stretching underneath the table and fingers drumming at the shiny surface of the dining table-top. He looked tired, as I peer over at him, and I wonder how often he felt like just _collapsing._ His shift hours were long, and the Doctor didn't seem to _stop_ working most of the time.

'You don't mind me being here?' I inquire.

'Oddly enough, no'. He throws me a teasing sideways glance, to which I smirk at, before turning back around and settling back against the couch. I spend only a little time picking the next film; a flick of a grin as I point at the holo and the image before me begins playing _E.T._ I ignore Leonard's slight scoff when said character first appears, to which I throw him a rude gesture over the couch.

Halfway through the film, I peer over the sofa to see him with his brow furrowed and his fingers slowly tapping away at the PADD. An empty cup sits next to him, and his back is way too slouched for his position to be comfortable. I stare at him for a few more seconds, my face pressed against the couch, before I murmur, 'You're going to pull a muscle frowning that hard'. His gaze flickers upward to me; unimpressed and stale. 'Have you even seen this film?'

He frowns, before nodding. 'Couple of time. My sister liked it when we were kids'. He pauses, before carrying on. 'Damn thing used to scare the shit outta me when I was a boy'.

I snort. 'Same here'. Another pause. 'You almost done with you work?'

He stares for a moment, before flopping the PADD uselessly onto the table. His throat jumps as he swallow, his gaze flickering from the holo, and then back to me in a distracted manner. I watch, confused. 'Finished about forty damn minutes ago. Knew that if I ended up in front of that holo with you, I'd end up gettin' comfy and fallin' asleep. Then we'd miss it'.

My expression falls from dry to puzzled. 'Miss _what?'_

At that moment, his PADD vibrates three times, a timer, and he reaches across to flick his finger over the screen. A familiar smarmy and pleased look flashes my way as he pushes himself away from the table and gruffly points my way and says, 'Get ya shoes on. I wanna show you somethin', sweetheart'.

I blink. ' _What?_ It's midnight!'

'Congratulations. You can tell the time'.

I frown, face crumpling and eyes narrowing. 'You're hilarious'.

He comes for the couch, stopping just on the other side and staring down at me as I stare up at him. With a smirk, he replies, 'I know'.

* * *

He takes me to the bar again.

It is empty now. Silent and dimly lit, the remnants of the crews drinking completely sparse from the large room. I stand before the large window, Leonard silent and still next to me, and try very hard not to cry at what lay beyond the window.

The sight of it is splayed beyond the window, a massive blue sphere amongst a sea of black; a splash of colour in the darkness of space. I can't really describe the feeling of seeing it there, suspended in space like something was holding it up. It was there. In front of me. An image I never thought I would see, before my own eyes. Everything that had ever happened in the history of mankind had happened _there._ That white, green and blue planet ballooning before me and making something akin to familiarity and homesickness stir within me.

 _Earth_.

I swear quietly, to which Leonard scoffs, his arm pressed solidly against my shoulder. I look up at him and he looks right back down at me, and for some reason I feel oddly like crying.

'Thank you,' I tell him.

He half-shrugs, trying his best to look gruff and distant. 'Thought you'd wanna see it. This is the best look of it you're gonna get before we get in orbit and hang around 'till mornin''.

I pause, still looking up at him, and say the words that had been sitting on the edge of my tongue for days. 'I'm going to miss you,' I tell him, but the words fall out in a rush. 'I - So _bloody_ much'. I scoff, my cheeks warm and fingers fiddling with the sleeves of my sleep shirt. He looks back at me, eyes unblinking and mouth set. I snort. 'It's sad, but I think you might be my best friend, you know'.

He stares right back at me, expression serious, before replying, 'That is a little sad, darl-' I slap his arm, call him a dick, and he smiles a large smile that I had only been able to see a handful of times, before nodding jerkily. 'I'm goin' to miss you too, sweetheart'.

As the silence stretches, it's seems almost unanimous that our hands link between us, stumbling and slow and with clumsy fingers. I breathe in deeply, blinking at the sight of somewhere that felt both like home, and like somewhere I hardly knew.

'You're gonna be fine,' he tells me.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and hope to fuck that he is right.

* * *

 **Sorry, was super busy! I went to London Pride and then had my friend stay for a week.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys like this! It's more of a character building/filler chapter before everything goes down. Thank you for the follows/reviews! I hope you guys are enjoying! If we could carry on the theme of 'good' as a review or, hell, just write 'bad' if you didn't like it! Any kind of feedback is great!**


	23. Rhiannon

_All your life you've never seen_  
 _A woman taken by the wind_  
 _Would you stay if she promised you heaven?_  
 _Will you ever win?_

 _She is like a cat in the dark and then_  
 _She is the darkness_  
 _She rules her life like a fine skylark and when_  
 _The sky is starless_

Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac

* * *

I wake up to the sound of heavy breathing, and a warmth on my back.

The room around me is quiet and smells of him, and it takes me only a few seconds to remember tiredly coming back to Leonard's room the night before, my mind still reeling from the sight of Earth, and accepting Leonard's quiet question of whether I wanted to stay with him tonight. It was changing, the way in which we spent time together. It was becoming more familiar; less like it was in the beginning.

There was no pausing as we crawled into bed, avoiding each others gaze and not touching at first. It would, inevitably, happen. My skin would _burn_ from the closeness of him, and I was beginning to recognise the moment he went to sleep; when his breathing turned shallow and deep and arm would find my waist. It was self-sabotage. I wanted to be close to him, but I knew full well that this would only make me miss him all the more.

I glance over my shoulder, seeing that his back is to me and that my feet are curled up to press against his calves. When had I grown so domesticated with him - with _anyone?_ Never had I allowed myself to be so close, so _quickly_ with someone. Never anyone like _him._ Only Engineers and, once, a girl: an Environmental Lawyer. Never anyone like him; a _Doctor._ His life was built around _helping._

This hurts my heart so suddenly that I have to turn around, too shocked at the sudden _feeling_ that rushes through me at the sight of his tousled hair and broad shoulders facing me. I cared. I _cared_ far too fucking much.

I crawl out of bed quietly, not entirely used to waking up before him. With a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table, I see that it's 5:50 AM. I couldn't get back to sleep now, anyway. Not knowing what today was - where today would take me. _Earth. An Earth I never knew. Would it be like the movies, I wonder? Will cars fly and will robots greet me at the door?_

I suppress a snort and stand, stretch, and make my way into the kitchen. Leonard, it seemed, preferred to have his Quarters at a higher temperature than mine, probably due to where he was from, and had lent me some baggy shorts to pair with my sleep shirt, as to avoid any awkward encounters like the morning before. They kept falling down my waist when I walked, and I grunt and yank them up again, my yawn nearly cracking my head in half as I slip through the door to the living area and allow it to slide shut behind me.

Right. Coffee.

I bumble over to the Replicator, my limbs stiff from sleep and my sight bleary. It was likely that Leonard's alarm would go off soon, so I get myself a steaming cup of coffee, before making him the same and allowing it to steam on the counter for a few minutes as I go over to the music player, swipe my fingers across the front of it, and mutter a raspy, 'Play'.

The song, of which I had intended for him, blares quietly from the speakers. My sticky note still lingers on top of the device, and I knew that he hadn't had any time to listen to it yet. I hum and turn swiftly on my heels as the song drifts through the quiet sparseness of his Quarters, my bare feet slipping across the clean, shiny floor as I shuffle back over to my coffee.

If I had it my way, I would be blaring Nicki Minaj and cooking bacon, but alas. Beggars can't be choosers, and I had _missed_ being able to play my music out loud.

I lean heavily against the counter and mutter along to the whimsical words, the steaming mug of coffee cradled between my hands. I sip at it, wincing at the heat, before thinking about what on Earth I should make the replicator produce for breakfast. I wasn't hungry, not in the slightest, but I knew I had to eat. Was I intruding, I wondered, by waking up before him and doing this? Would he worry that I was making myself too comfortable? I didn't want that. I didn't want the Doctor to think I was getting the wrong idea - I knew full well where we both stood.

 _You're a time-traveller. You have fucking magical abilities. You're going to be on Earth for God knows how long. There's complicated, and then there's you._

I hum along to the tune, sing the next line quietly, and turn on my heel to place my half empty mug onto the counter beside Leonard's still hot one. I had, for him, made sure the Replicator made it hot enough that it wouldn't go cold until his 6:00 AM alarm went off.

I do not expect to see the Doctor standing in his doorway, arms crossed and gaze solely on me.

I yelp, trip, and send a big gulp of the coffee onto the floor and splattering onto my legs. My girlish scream is not unnoticed. ' _Jesus,_ Leonard!' I snap, whilst the Doctor drags himself away from the door with wide eyes and a suppressed grin, his movements sluggish from sleep. 'Don't _laugh_!' I nearly yell, my own laugh straining my stern voice. I slam the coffee mug onto the counter and whine. 'Coffee is _hot_ \- that hurt, your bastard. What are you doing, being all _sneaky_ -!'

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, making his way toward me and throwing me a sideways glance as he yanks a towel from the counter. His hair was the typical mess of when he had just woken up. I try my very hardest to not stare, instead grumbling and rubbing my wet, burnt legs. 'Good _God_ , woman. I thought Jim was damn dramatic. Sit ya behind down - and I was not bein' _sneaky-'_

'You _were,'_ I grouse, doing as asked and backing up onto the dining chair. In my wake, I leave coffee footprints. '...Sorry about the mess'.

He snorts and, rather than go for the splash of coffee on the floor like I would have assumed he would, he instead comes to me, crouches in front of me, and raises a brow in question. I raise one right back, my chest heavy and my cheeks hot, before he reaches forward, curls his fingers around my wet leg, and brings the towel forward to begin wiping in one swift motion from my knee to my ankle. His hazel eyes flick to mine just once, and in all of my eloquent glory, I can only stare back down at him with red cheeks and fingers gripping the seat of my chair tightly.

His fingers move, just slightly, higher up my leg, before where my calve meets my thigh.

I freeze.

How the fuck does he make wiping a _caffeinated drink_ off of my leg with a bloody towel so bloody...so _sultry?_

I swallow, trying my hardest to relax my muscles. It's times like these I wished I was _far_ better with talking to him in this state. It's times like this I wished I was better at _talking._ 'How very gallant of you,' I mutter, to which he scoffs and throws me a dry look, his knees still pressed against the floor and my other leg drawn in his grasp. His fingers both tickle and burn where they move, and I try very hard to breathe properly. Finally, he stops, my skin sufficiently dry, and lets my feet drop to the ground.

'My fault,' he replies, standing swiftly. 'Should have realised not to surprise a damn clumsy oaf like you-'

I thump his arm as I stand.

I grab another towel and aid him in drying the floor, before sliding the steaming mug toward him and eyeing him, from his rumpled sleep clothes to his muss of hair. He looked better than he had yesterday - for more rested. It was somehow easier to be around him when he looked like this. If he had wiped that damn coffee off of me whilst in his CMO uniform...well. I may have had to be mopped up too.

'How're you feelin', sweetheart?'

'Half-excited,' I tell him, drinking the rest of my lukewarm coffee. 'Half like I want to lock myself in my Quarters. Hey, do you like this song? This is the band I wanted you to listen to-'

'Fleetwood Mac?' he inquired, smiling lightly. He leans against the counter with me, and I think back to when I had first met this man, when I had run away from him and he had caught me with ease. I had hated him, then. Really, truly thought he was a _complete_ arse. 'My Ma loves 'em. _Rhiannon_ is her damn favourite song-'

'It is?' I ask, lighting up immediately. Such music wasn't forgotten, then. He eyes me with a quick look, his eyes jumping from my smile to my eyes. 'That's the song I wanted to show you - aren't they _great?_ Your mum has good music taste. Oh, wait, let me show you another song of theirs. You've probably heard it - _Don't Stop_ -' I flick my fingers over the music player, spinning on me heel when the beat thrums forward.

Leonard watches me, brow cocked and expression deadpan. I do a terrible dance in return, my hands curled into fists and my shoulders shimmying from side to side. He laughs, then, a real, honest laugh that shows all of his teeth and makes the corner of his eyes crinkles, and my arms fall uselessly to my sides. He calls me a damn idiot, informs me he likes the song very much, and tells me to never dance like that again.

I don't say it, but if doing stupid shit like that made Leonard McCoy laugh such a wonderful laugh, I'd be dancing like an idiot for the foreseeable future.

* * *

You know when you make plans with people, but you're the only one who doesn't want to do said plan, and you voice this, however quietly? You know how, just sometimes, the people you make a plan with insist that they will change the plan to suit your needs, despite how much you might _insist_ that you don't mind? You know how, when the plan changes, you feel like an idiot of epic proportions?

That's what it feels like watching every single bloody member of the Enterprise crew, those who were not needed aboard the ship whilst she docked (like Scotty who, according to Leonard, would rather die than leave his Lady just yet), board the shuttles for Earth. I had been informed that the crew were only aware of the bare necessities: that there had been a of a breech of Starfleet Security, that Doctor Edgar Bates had kept me captive, and that the Enterprise was to deliver both me and him to Earth and dock for a short amount of time. They were allowed Shore Leave, and the Captain apologised for a blip so soon in their five year mission, but some of the crew were needed for the trial.

I felt like that friend who ruined the plans. I felt like the _idiot._

My nerves are all but punching me in the stomach as I walk through the Shuttlebay alone, following the directions that the Captain had thrown my way that morning on the Bridge. I had called there on his orders as Leonard went to Sick Bay to ensure things were running smoothly there, and the Captain had told me to gather my things (what things? A PADD, a Comm, and some earring left behind in my old _cell_ ) and head to Shuttle 7 for 0900 hours.

Thing is, I was lost. I was really fucking lost.

After twenty minutes of wandering hopelessly, I had asked some crew members how to even get _down_ to the Shuttlebay. They had pointed me in the right direction, inquired if I was the renowned guest of the Enterprise, and then cocked a confused smile when I had informed them that I was the kidnapped, not the kidnapp _er._ Deciding very quickly that my joke was of poor taste, I had muttered a thanks and scuttled away down an array of corridors, weaving through the masses of crew on my way.

I was in the Shuttlebay now. Do you know there are a _ridiculous_ amount of Shuttles leaving the Enterprise? Like, a _stupid amount?_ And the numbers aren't even in _order_ , they're _-_

'Miss Adams?'

I whirl around, nearly knocking into a woman with bright blue hair and green eyelashes, my reaction at seeing the yellow shirted, Russian Navigator probably slightly over the top. 'Oh,' I gape. 'Thank _God'._ He stands with his PADD in his hands, his bright blue eyes smiling, and a twist to his mouth that lets me _know_ he is ever-so-amused by my lost expression. I push past some crew members who duck close together talking, and stumble to stand in front of the man. He grins in welcome. 'I'm so fucking lost. Where the _hell_ is _Shuttle 7_ -?'

Chekov grins. 'I am just heading zere now! Have you been valking all this time around here? Bah! Ze Captain will find zat most amusing - come, this way'. I glower at his words, to which he aims another cheeky grin my way. I thank my lucky fucking stars when he turns sharply on his heel to the right and points in the direction the shuttle, _apparently,_ was, all the while talking quickly about how odd it would be to go back to Earth, after he had said his goodbyes to his family.

'Well,' I mutter. 'You're welcome-'

'Ah! You must not feel blame,' he holds his hands out in front of him, seeming to animate every words that falls from his mouth as we rush along. I, in return, nearly trip over my feet a good few times in my attempt to keep up with the man. 'Ze Enterprise crew likes _nothing_ more than bringing zose who are due punishment their punishment, you see? And you are helping with zat!' He points toward a long line of shuttles, where gatherings of crew were milling about. 'Zis way. As I was saying. Ve have had stops to Earth before zat were not scheduled, do not worry too much. Anyvay, you must be excited to see how Earth has changed!'

He grins at me, and it's bloody contagious. I grin right back, thankful that I had run into Ensign Pavel Chekov. 'I am actually, you know, Ensign-'

'Ah, _Pavel_ -'

'Well,' I cut him off, looking off distractedly when I catch sight of a shuttle with a big white 7 painted on the side of it. 'I'm June, then. You've seen me use my mind to do some pretty messed up shit - I think we're past formalities-'

He laughs. 'I suppose, yes'.

He offers for me to walk up the metal steps to the shuttle first, and the moment I walk through the doors into the small, square thing that looks a lot like the one we had found on Clion 2BA, I am bombard with the tall and broad shouldered Doctor, his expression twisted with annoyance. I blink, swear in surprise, and glare up at him. 'Jesus, Leonard. _Personal space_ -'

He frowns.

'You ever answer your damn Comm?' He inquires, glaring when I look back to the amused looking Pavel, before starting along the aisle of seats. It seemed a majority of the higher ranking crew were on this vessel, including the Captain, who sat beside Spock and Uhura and eyed Leonard tailing me with a side glance.

I frown, glaring over my shoulder at him. 'What - _yes._ It's-' I go for my pocket where, yes, I can feel my PADD...but not my Comm. I pause briefly, stop before a line of seats that are spare, just two rows behind the busier part of the shuttle, before reply snappily, 'I may have left it in y - _my_ Quarters'. Bugger it all. I almost said _his_ Quarters.

'Bones,' the Captain drawls from in front of us, and I can see his head is bowed as if he is looking at his PADD. 'Stop being a mother hen for ten seconds, will you?'

The Doctor merely growls in response.

I practically throw myself into the seat and catch Uhura rolling her eyes sky high as she turns back around. Pavel, I see, had elected to hang back and talk to some pretty, green skinned girl who was standing at the front of the Shuttle. I eye Leonard as he slides into the seat next to me, a moody expression on his face as goes from glaring at me, to the PADD he slides onto his lap.

'You're in a delightful mood,' I inform him.

'And you were takin' your damn time-'

'You're not my _keeper,_ Leonard,' I mutter angrily, glad that we were a few rows back from the others. He was being a moody arse. More so than usual. I elbow him in the side to get his attention. 'I got lost. _Sue me-'_

He jabs angrily at the screen, still not looking at me. 'Ya weren't damn lost, you were with Ensign Chekov. I don't _care_ if you have friends, June, but we're on a stiff time limit, and-'

I jut my knee angrily against his, my cheeks an angry red and my green eyes focused solely on the side of his face. After a moment, he turns slowly to look at me, his jaw stiff and his shoulders angrily hunched forward. I blink at him for a moment, tilt my head, and ask, 'Do you _really_ think I would _loiter_ when I know this Shuttle has an expected time to leave?' At that moment, the bang, lock and click of the shuttle door sounds, and my stomach turns. _Keep talking. Distract yourself._ '...He found me _three_ freaking minutes before I got here, because I was wandering around like a fucking idiot and, yes, _might_ have forgotten my Comm. What do I do about that, by the way?...And don't say you don't care, then be an _arse._ That's not fair'. I swallow deeply, cross my arms, and mutter, 'And Pavel is not my type, anyway. Apparently brooding and moody _is'._

At that, I turn sharply away and glare out of the window, watching as the deck below the shuttle slowly moved as the shuttle also did. Leonard shifts next to me, mutters something, and then goes back to jabbing angrily at his PADD. _Men,_ I think bitterly, sinking deeper into my seat. The busy deck below me, where various crew members wove easily with each other, is so suddenly replaced by walls closing in on the windows of the shuttle and then, finally, _space._

The stars and blackness seemed somehow so much closer to us; far closer than they might have aboard the Enterprise. My heart tugs when I think of the ship, and for the first time I consider the fact that I might never step aboard the stupidly brightly lit starship ever again. The thought makes me cheeks warm with something other than embarrassment at what I had snapped at Leonard.

I wondered where Bates was. I thought of asking Leonard, but decided that I didn't really want to know.

I stare so hard out of the window that my nose touches the cold, thick glass and my breath mists the window. My skin prickles and eyes widen when I see the sudden curve of a planet come into focus as the Shuttle tilts. All blues, whites and greens - _Earth_. It comes closer as the Shuttle moves, until it is all that I can see from the window. We move quickly, and my fingers curl around the armrest, unnerved at how fast we were moving.

Leonard huffs out a sharp sigh. 'Damn hate these Shuttles,' he mutters. I turn to him, eyeing his glower and the way he stares, unseeing, at the PADD. _Aviophobia._ When he catches me looking, he looks up and cocks a brow. After a pause, in which the chatter of the ship lingers around us, he rolls his eyes and says, ' _Sorry'._

I swallow a smile. ' _So_ heartfelt'. He winces when the Shuttle jostles, and I try very hard not to think about this tiny little thing, suspended in space with nothing else holding us up. I also try very hard not to think about where we were heading, and what that would mean for me. I would be, once again, the lost idiot latching onto anyone who could help. I _hated_ that. 'Does Starbucks still exist?' I murmur, loosening my grip on the armrest.

Leonard looks back to me, expression drawn into confusion. 'Coffee place? Yeah'.

I nod and smile. 'Cinnamon Dolce Latte,' I mutter. 'I'm going to get one of those. With a poppy-seed and lemon muffin'. I lick my lips, eyeing the seat in front of me. The window to the side of me is suddenly blurred by clouds. Fuck. We were getting closer. 'How long does it take to get to Earth?'

He is quiet when is replies, still half-turned toward me. 'Almost there, June'.

'Right,' I reply. 'Right'.

I turn to the window once again, my stomach rolling and twisting with nerves that I wish would disappear. I should have said goodbye to my room on the Enterprise. How silly did that sound? I felt, somehow, like I had left behind such an important part of my life there. Jommin...would I see her again, before the trial and after it finished? Would I see any of these people again? The clouds, filtered with bright blue sky, billow past the window, and I clench my hands tightly in my lap.

Leonard shifts next to me. 'Brooding and moody, huh?' He murmurs the words, and I turn to find his face closer to mine, his hazel eyes sharp and one brow cocked. I blink at him, my mouth twisting with a rueful smile.

It takes me a moment to reply, my words lodged in my throat. I wasn't sure if my heart was beating a mile a fucking minute from my nerves, or from the way Leonard was looking at me. 'You're going to use _that_ as a way to distract me?' I whisper with a scoff. 'There's a time and a place, Doctor McCoy-'

'Yeah. Suppose you're right'. A pause, and my stomach twists. _Would there be another time?_ I turn away from him, fingers locked in my lap and my mouth drying. '...Better than impulsive and _melodramatic_ -'

I turn so quickly back to him that my neck clicks. 'I _beg_ your pardon-?!'

'Will you two stop _bickering?'_ Jim snaps from two rows ahead. He was standing, I hadn't noticed, with Spock looking with interest at something on the PADD in the Captain's hands. Both men frown toward us. I glower and slouch in my seat, whilst Leonard does the same. Jim rolls his eyes. ' _Thank you'._

Leonard goes back to tapping at his PADD.

I turn sideways to him after a few minutes. 'I'm scared,' I admit, voice low and fingers tapping against each other. He looks to me without a moments pause, as if he had been expecting this admission for quite some time. With a secret hand, so the others cannot see, he reaches for my lap and pulls one of the fiddling hands away from the other and links his larger fingers with mine, hidden from anyone else. Out interlocked hands rest on the armrest.

He doesn't say anything. He just goes back to tapping at his PADD with one hand, only the side of his face bare to me. I eye him, my breath tight in my chest and my heart thrumming throughout me and try my very fucking hardest to not open my mouth and say something stupid. Instead, I pray that my hands don't get sweaty, look out of the window, and watch the clouds pass.

It is fifteen minutes later that we arrive, finally, to Earth.

* * *

 **Cliffhanger time. How about I be really annoying and say I won't update until I get to 170 reviews? Thank you so much to those who review/read/favourite/follow! I hope you guys are enjoying, feedback would be amazing1**


	24. My Way

_I've loved, I've laughed and cried_  
 _I've had my fill my share of losing_  
 _And now, as tears subside_  
 _I find it all so amusing_

 _To think I did all that_  
 _And may I say - not in a shy way_  
 _Oh no, oh no, not me_  
 _I did it my way_

My Way - Frank Sinatra

* * *

'-There are more Shuttles that will take the crew to wherever they need to go, Bones. The Academy has rooms ready for anyone who's staying - the usual, y'know. Most of the Bridge crew, minus Chekov. He's going back to Russia for a few days - something about his sister having a surprise for him. God know. She's probably pregnant _again_. Anyway, I had to go through a _ton_ of requests from the crew for those who are leaving San Fran and, let me tell you, it's most of the damn crew. Admirals have been on me to alert them the moment we're within the vicinity of Starfleet Headquarters, and-'

My legs feel like jelly as I walk down the Shuttle steps and gulp in clean, fresh air. My chest feels like a dead-weight is pushing against it. My fingers shake as they skim over the railing. I walk, following the Captain and the Doctor, into the fresh, warm air of, for the first time, _America._ Earth. I blink hard against the light that seeps through the clouds, my senses overloaded by sound, sight, touch and smell.

I seem to be alone in my minor freak-out. Everyone else is, thank God, distracted.

I move in the line down the steps of the Shuttle, with Chekov and Sulu behind me wrapped up in conversation, and Spock and Uhura turning to Jim and Len as they step onto solid ground. I feel like I'm moving so fucking slowly, but everything around me was happening so fast. The clouds move across the blue sky, the wind ruffles my slowly growing curls of red, my skin prickles with a shiver, a bird flies overhead...if I ignored the most obvious things that indicated this was the future, I could almost be home.

I _wasn't_ , of course. I was as far away as I could possibly get.

I pause for just a moment before moving from the last step, before taking the plunge and stepping, for the first, onto _this_ Earth. I move with trepidation, eyeing the crew of the Enterprise who filter from various Shuttles, filling the Shuttle Yard with bright colours of their uniform. The hum of conversation filters around me, and I edge around the crew of the Enterprise, who talk lowly with one another.

I may only have a few moments to take this in without watchful eyes.

I find myself looking toward the horizon, where tall buildings that seem predominantly mapped out by large glass windows ascend toward the sky, and things zoom across the horizon. _Flying cars,_ I think drily. I swallow, glancing around me, my feet skimming uneasily against the concrete as I turn, my head spinning and my fingers twitching. How odd was it to think that I had _just_ been in space, beyond those clouds and the blue sky?

 _This is where you live now._

More and more Shuttles land in the Yard. Something that looks like a train whizzes past at the end of the Yard, sleek and _so_ different from the rickety carriages of home. Something flies overhead; something smaller than a Shuttle. People in clothes other than the uniforms of the Enterprise scatter about, PADD's in their hands as they tap away and approach Shuttles. I feel the nagging at the back of my mind; a reminder that I was getting agitated and worried and that _it_ was here to protect me. I clench my fists and take a deep breath through my nose, snapping in the direction of Jim when he says, in a loud voice,

' _June'._

My face grows hot when I realise that many of the pairs of eyes of the group were on me, and I blink, realising he must have said my name once before. 'Oh,' I deadpan, my fingers curling around the sleeves of my black shirt. 'Sorry'.

Leonard hangs back, but his gaze his trained solely on me. I refrain from looking at him too much, and he doesn't approach me. _We weren't in the privacy of our Quarters anymore._ Mister Spock inclines his head, before turning solidly toward the Captain and clasping his hands behind his back. 'Jim, Admiral Akachi will have been alerted of the crews arrival on Earth. It is imperative that we begin our journey to Starfleet Head-'

'Right, right,' Jim tares his gaze away from me, and I try not to note the worry in those ridiculously blue eyes. Sulu leaves first, a grin splashing across his features as he turns suddenly to Chekov, elbowing him in the side, before he marching quickly toward a man with a baby cradled in his arms. Chekov bids the Captain goodbye, nodding to me and wishing me luck and informs me that he will return in three days, before insisting that he must meet his _friend_ before he departs for Russia. I watch them go, before turning to the sound of a happy laugh sounding just a few feet away.

It's a dark-skinned man, just about my age, hugging two elderly women who look remarkably like him. I swallow tightly at the sight, my heart hurting. _This is your life now, June, you better get used to it-_

'June'. It's Leonard this time, and I nod and turn back to the group of people, before we are weaving through the crew of the Enterprise and toward where I had seen that train-thing whizz past. My fists clench and unclench at my side as I walk swiftly after them, eyeing the Captain, Uhura and Spock who talk with one another as they walk. Jim glances back only once, smiles at me, before looking to Leonard and turning back around.

A hand ghosts against my back, fingers a solid press, and I turn to look up at the Doctor before nodding. _I'm okay,_ I tell him, my smile tight. His hand drops away from me, his eyes lingering for just a moment, before he turns away and continues to walk at my side, nodding to those who greet him. I note, with some interest, that most of the people seem to greet and step back as the group weaves through them. _Jim's Captain,_ I think. _And they're all his right-hands. Of course they have respect._

We stop at the end of the Yard, where a train track, so different from the ones of my times, sits suspended above the ground. People, all Enterprise crew, stand on the platform, and I lean over slightly to inspect how the track ascends from the ground further down the track. That was certainly different from my time. I only lean back when Leonard yanks me with a small tug at the hem of my shirt, a distracted expression on his face as he looks about.

It makes me stomach turn to think the action had been absent-minded.

Spock and Uhura stand slightly to the side, deep in conversation, and Jim comes to stands beside Leonard with a reassuring grin on his features. 'So,' the Captain starts, dark brow cocked and mouth tugging into an amused smile. I look across Leonard and up to him, expectant. 'What's your first impression, Adams?'

I smile wryly, trying my best to squash my nerves. 'I can't say much, _Kirk_. I've never been to America'. Leonard scoffs, eyes trained on the tracks, and Jim rolls his eyes. 'Fine. It's... _clean'._

'Clean?'

'Clean,' I agree. 'Nicer looking. It doesn't...doesn't _smell_ like a City-' I yelp when a sudden motion to my left jolts into my vision. 'Jesus _Christ._ Since when were trains that _quiet?'_ Jim snorts and rubs his forehead, whereas Leonard shushes me with a stern look and animated hands. I ignore him entirely, too wrapped up in noting the design of the train that had swooshed silently to stop in front of us, the way the doors open with no sound, and how much more spacious it seemed. I watch the two men go first, before following along with the crowd and tucking myself close to Leonard's side, blinking around me.

I felt like a fucking infant discovering the world around them for the first time.

'Do we have to pay?' I ask, and feel very, very stupid the moment the question falls from my mouth. At their bemused looks, I turn red and glare. 'It's a valid fucking question,' I grumble, thinking of the copious amounts of money I had paid on my journeys back home from Uni. I zone out of the men's quiet conversation when we begin to move, staring past the brightly dressed crew and instead stare out of the window of the train as it begins to move quickly, my heart rate picking up once again.

The scenery changes so quickly that I politely push past a man and woman, electing to instead push myself up against the glass door of the train and watch the tall buildings, the river, the Bridge in the distance, the Shuttles shooting past, the streets below, the _people-_

'Leave her,' I hear Jim murmur, and my fingers press against cold glass as I stare out into a world that was mine for the taking. _Think of it as something else to learn, June._

I may as well be on an alien planet. None of this seems familiar. None of the tall buildings, white and glass and far more architecturally advanced than the buildings of my time, seem familiar to me. The soundless train is foreign to me. The languages spoken around me are nothing that I recognise. The closer we get into the City of San Francisco, the more I feel the truth of what I have lost.

And I want Bates to never see the light of day for what he's done; for what he's _taken._

* * *

People leave us.

Uhura tells Spock that she will meet him later, and that she will find the rooms Starfleet had assigned for them for Shore Leave. She smiles to me, wishes me luck, and turns swiftly on her heel and walks down the Platform, following the masses of crew. I want to smile. I want to stare about me in wonder as I accompany the three men along the Platform, until we are walking across a busy street where buildings tower high and cars whizz past and people dress so differently, yet so the same-

I feel numb, though. I feel as if this all too much, and I want to desperately to lock myself away in a room and scream until my throat is sore that I am _angry_ that I cannot do just that.

It takes us mere minutes to reach Starfleet Headquarters.

It is beautiful, I have to admit. Beautiful in a plain way. There is no colour, no character - but, I suppose, the building was trying to convey what Starfleet was - power and unity. _White_. The colour of peace.

The sun begins to breathe through the clouds, and people in different uniforms filter around the outside of the great building, where the Starfleet emblem is present almost everywhere. There is grass, pavement, sun and lake - it was picturesque; too beautiful to even be real. I walk quickly, nearly tripping over my feet a good few times as I turn left and right, trying to take in everything that I can and completely ignoring the fast-paced conversation going on between the men. I see students, a uniform I recognise from my studying of Starfleet Academy after my conversation with Jommin. I see Admirals. I see uniforms that I can't name with a rank I do not understand.

The closer we get to the Headquarters, the more my stomach begins to churn.

Even the concrete floor beneath my feet is clean and white. Why is everything so _white_ here? A few people look our way, taking in the Uniforms of the men I am with and throwing pointed glances toward Jim. I knew why, and for once I was in on the joke. Jim was _famous._ The youngest Starfleet Captain, the man who had saved Earth twice now - he was the poster child for Starfleet.

'June'. I look at Jim, noting that they have stopped just beyond the doors, and I stumble to a pause along with them. 'Bones can't go with us - this is Captain and First Officer territory. Look, you...' He glances to Spock, swallows, and looks back to me. 'Y'need to _calm down._ Okay? You-'

'Your agitation and panic is quite obvious, Miss Adams,' Mister Spock interrupts smoothly.

For a moment, I wonder why this matters. Of course I'm going to be nervous. Of course I'm going to be agitated. It hits me, as I catch Leonard's shifty gaze locked onto mine, that they are _worried_ of what my panic might cause. _They don't want to blowing up any lights once we get to see the Admiral, idiot._ I swallow my heated words, and instead manage a stiff nod with a tight jaw.

Leonard's shoulders sag. He was expecting me to blow up, then. The man knew me well.

Jim stares at me for a moment, before nodding sharply. 'Okay. Bones?'

He tears his gaze away from me, nodding toward Jim with his usual pointed stare and quick intake of breath. 'Got it, Jim. I'll see you at the Shore Leave Quarters. June...' The Doctor looks at me, still in his blue inform, and purses his lips. Perhaps he might have drawn me in for a stuff, reassuring hug had the other men not been there. Perhaps he would have planted a kiss on my hair and informed me of far more intimate words than the ones he gives me. The Doctor nods. 'Give 'em hell, sweetheart'.

At that, I manage a smile.

I watch him walk away, his back straight and his arms tight at his side, and only look back when Jim starts talking to me again and I am led into the Headquarters. 'Akachi is fair,' Jim tells me, as I plant myself in the middle of the two men. 'He understands your situation, as do the other Admirals. Only a select few ave been informed. Today, it's just going to be him. Tomorrow, it's going to be a...a fair few of them. I'm not sure when the trial will start yet. Bates has been delivered to Security, and he'll be spoken with. But...' I look around as he chooses his words, from the dozens of staircases to the screens dotted about the place. 'Today is about Starfleet sucking up to you, June. They screwed up and you got the shitty consequences. They know that-'

'Good,' I bite out, nails digging into the palm of my hand. 'Am I...Am I staying in the same building as you all?' Jim nods in affirmation, something in his gaze making me turn away quickly as we climb into the lift. I sigh in relief. 'Okay. If they...if they ask me about my...' I don't name it. They know what I mean. _My abilities._

Mister Spock speaks next. 'I believe it would be best to be as truthful as you can, Miss Adams'.

Truthful. That would be a nice change. _Or would it?_

I don't feel like I'm on Earth, I think, as we go up and up in the lift. The two men stand silently at my side, and I don't even bother to try and fill the awkward silence. I feel like I'm out of my body; that this is all happening far too quickly, and that I want to be in whatever sparse, bare Quarters that have been assigned to me and curl in on myself, away from these people who were trying their hardest to make me feel welcome.

We stop outside of a door, down a long corridor where Jim has to place his hand for access on a pad, and I take one, deep breath. Jim looks at me, and I look at him, and then he gives the door three, sharp knocks. There is a pause, before a voice I recognise from Comm's, calls, 'Come in!'

Admiral Achaki is shorter in person.

He stands, his fingers pressed against the desk as he greets _Captain Kirk_ and _Commander Spoc_ k, before turning his gaze on me. 'Miss Adams,' he greets, but it sounds more like a fact. This man is dressed in an immaculate Admirals uniform, and his dark hair is swept back from his face with precision. He motions us forward, and we sit on the three chairs on the other side of the desk.

My knee jumps with nerves.

'I'm sorry we're not dressed in the proper uniform, Admiral Achaki,' Jim apologises easily. 'We came straight from the Shuttle Yard-'

Akachi waves his hand, and I watch him closely, trying to get everything I can from this man. _This_ was the side of Starfleet that I had not seen. The Admirals and the ones on the ground, the ones in charge...these were the people I was going to have to worry about, if at all. He looks back to me, and dip of his head and a clasp of his hands tells me that another apology is coming. 'It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Miss Adams. I can only once again extend my deepest apologies, and my thanks for what you did on Clion 2BA. We have been... _informed_ '.

I refrain from smiling drily.

He struggles with a breath, his gaze faltering. 'The matter at hand remains-'

'You're worried I can't _control_ it,' I fill in, my knee still jumping and my hands curled into fists on my lap. Beside me, Mister Spock looks sharply my way. Despite the warming in my cheeks at Akachi's mildly surprised look, I just don't _care_ anymore. I was sick of beating around the bush and be _ashamed_ of what had happened to me. 'I, uh, figured. That's fair...but I _am_ learning'.

Mild surprise turns into interest. 'You have been...practising? I was not aware of this'. At this, he looks at Jim. _Shit._

 _Jim doesn't know._ I think of Leonard's reaction; of how disappointed and worried he had been. _I can't be treated like a bomb about to go off._ I swallow, note Jim throwing me a sideways glance, and reply with a stoic and quiet, 'Yes'.

Jim's shoulders sag.

 _I'm sorry._

The Admiral nods, his eyes never leaving me. There was no worry there; more interest than anything. 'You cadence is appreciated, Miss Adams. Edgar Bates is currently being held by the highest Security and he...well, I know the man. He is quite keen at _showing off_ his vast intelligence. I would not doubt for a second that he will tell fellow Starfleet Science Officers, those we know he will talk with once questioned, _how_ he...'

He trails of, and I smile wryly at him. 'Yeah,' I agree. _How he made you._ 'The trial...' I swallow, cringing when my voice cracks. Fuck, I was _tired._ 'When will it begin?'

'A few days time - perhaps the day after tomorrow. This is...this is a mere greeting, Miss Adams. Tomorrow...well, there are a fair few people who are rather _keen_ on meeting you-' He cuts himself off this time. 'You understand, Captain Kirk, that the trial will involve those who were present in the time of Miss Adams rescue, as well as those who were present for...for...' He wavers off, and I suppress a snort.

I sincerely wished Leonard was here to witness the floundering of this Admiral.

'Me closing a Portal with my _mind,_ Admiral?'

'...Yes. That'.

The conversation moves swiftly onto Quarters that have been prepared for our stay, a debriefing that Captain Kirk and Commander Spock will attend later in the afternoon, and the fact that I would, if I would _please,_ stay within the confines of Starfleet Headquarters for tonight. I understand, even without them saying, that this is not a request. This is an _order._

I try to squash my disappointment. _Another room to be locked up in._ I fling the thought from my mind the moment it arrives. This was _nothing_ like that dark and dank room.

'I want to see Edgar Bates before the trial,' I insist, what feels like hours later, but I know isn't even twenty minutes.

Admiral Akachi, after a pause, nods. 'He has...already been asking for you, or so I am told'. I try to make myself appear as if this news does not make me feel sick, and nod once. Akachi gives a small intake of breath that I was starting to learn linked with him about to say something difficult, and brace myself. 'Miss Adams...You understand that a select few, those involved in your case, are aware of the true strength of the ability Doctor Edgar Bates has...given to you with the help of Physics and Biology we are still struggling to understand'. I nod, slow and unsure. 'Then you are also aware we know of the... _dangers_ of your ability. To harm another with ones mind...it is...it is a subject which will arise tomorrow, and I must warn you now-'

 _Oh._ ' _I understand_ ,' I cut him off, sharp and rude and I feel almost bad for being so blunt with the man, but I can't hear this now. Not when I felt so overwhelmed and shitty already. I manage a tight, pale smile and nod to the Admiral. 'Thank you, Admiral'.

He, after a pause, nods.

He waves us away with a few kind words and that he will see Jim and Mister Spock later. To me, he offers a strained smile and a farewell. I, in return, turn on my heel and leave the Office of a man who sees only what Bates made, and not what I was before. _Dangerous. Dangerous. Dangerous. Oh God, what if you are? Wat if you fly off the handle one day and hurt someone-?_

Jim doesn't talk to me as he and Mister Spock escort me to the new Quarters I will be living in. He only offers a quick explanation that he will be staying a mere few doors down. I get the feeling he's annoyed at me, something of which I couldn't blame him for. He had been tasked with looking after me and making sure he was updating Starfleet on everything I was doing, but I had withheld information from him.

I stand in my Quarters for just a moment after the door slides shut behind me, the footsteps of the two men echoing, and bask in the quiet and taking in only parts of the room. It was big. A large, modern looking kitchen attached to a living room with a white, odd looking sofa, a glass table, and a large screen on the wall. The end of the apartment is taken up by a large window that went from ceiling to floor, and beyond I see the City of San Fran and the vehicles that take the sky.

I breathe in, and suddenly I am crying.

The sob comes quickly, and my face crumples as I allow myself to let go _._ The tears come streaming down my face, and my breath catches in my throat as I sob desperately, clinging to the emotion that pours out of me. I feel like a floodgate. I feel like a bubble ready to burst. I needed this. I _needed_ this cry. I needed this moment to heave out every horrible, sad emotion I had locked up inside of me on this day.

I didn't feel like I was home. I felt like I was further away from home than I had ever been.

I cry into the quiet of the apartment and walk forward, my hand coming to cover my mouth as I heave in and out, not even trying to quieten myself. I was _alone_. No mum, no dad, no family or friends to comfort me. They were dead. All of them - _dead dead dead._ They had their lives here, the Enterprise crew. They had lives and people and a history on this planet that I did not have, but in that moment the only person that I wanted to see me in this terrible, sad little state was-

There is a knock at the door.

I slap my hand over my mouth again and muffle the embarrassing little noises coming from my chest as I wipe desperately at my eyes, before groaning and throwing my arms in the air. There was _no way_ I could appear as if I hadn't been crying, I think, mortified. For fucks sake, could Jim not give me a moments peace? God, what if it was one of the Admirals, coming to welcome me or question me? Oh, _fuck._ Please don't let that me the answer-

 _Or Bates,_ I think. _What if he got out?_

And then, as I am standing uselessly in front of the door with a horrible puffy face and looking at the sliding door for an answer, I hear the voice of the one person I want to see. 'June,' Leonard says, quiet and muffled by the door. 'It's me'.

I shuffle forward after just a few seconds pause, before pressing the button to the right of the door and watching as Leonard McCoy is revealed to me. He had changed from his uniform to a dark green shirt and black trousers with leather shoes. I have no time to appreciate the specimen that is him before he is sighing, muttering a curse, stepping into the apartment, and _finally_ pulling me into his warm embrace.

I heave in and the door slides shut behind him.

'Sorry,' I mutter against his chest, my breathing sharp as I recover from my sobbing fit. My arms hang uselessly as my side. 'Feeling a _little_ fragile right now,' I quip lightly. He doesn't reply, and I slowly wrap my arms around his waist and step closer to him, my forehead resting where his chest and arm meet, and his hand burying into the curls of my hair. His chin plops on top of my head. The only sound is my embarrassing little chokes of crying, and the odd word that Leonard lets slip.

'S'alright,' he mutters. 'I know, sweetheart. Y'can cry. I ain't gonna make fun of you - not _now,_ anyway-'

I give a wet laugh against his form. 'Shut up'. I pull away, fingers still lingering against his waist, and blink up at him with a wry smile and a puffy face. 'Bet I'm a sight for sore eyes, huh?'

He looks back down on me, not etch of a smile on his features, before his jaw twitches and his head tilts and his brow furrows, and the Doctor replies, 'Still look beautiful to me, June'.

I want to kiss him. The thoughts nearly knocks me over, simply because I don't think I have ever wanted something so much in a long time.

My smile vanishes and I breathe in deeply, staring up at him with a sudden realisation that this moody wreck of a man who drank _bourbon_ and slept with his socks on and his brow twitching and his fingers reaching for me in the night...this man was someone I could never _not_ talk to again. _Not ever._ 'Don't,' I reply, trying to smile but failing rather miserably. I swallow. 'Don't say stuff like that'.

He looks about as sorry as a kid caught eating a wonderful cake. As in, not at _all_. 'I'll say it whenever I damn well please'.

I roll my eyes. 'Bloody hell, you are _dramatic_ '. I'm blushing, though. I'm pretty sure my face must match my hair. 'You didn't have to come and see me,' I point out to him, finally stepping fully away and wiping quickly at my cheeks. My breath catches with an old sob, and I blush even harder. 'I'm y'know... _fine_ '.

'Sure you are,' snorts Leonard. He watches me for a moment, as I scrub at my cheeks and shudder out a breath, his brow still crinkled. He sighs. 'I can go-'

I frown. 'I'd rather you _didn't_ '.

He smiles, cocks a brow, and crosses his arms over his chest. Thee expression on his face lingers on smug. 'Whatever you want, sweetheart'.

 _You,_ I want to tell him. _I just really want you._ Instead, I begin to nod, but my lip wobbles and my eyes water, and I am swearing and throwing my arms up in the air in exasperation as another sob breaks through me. 'For God's sake!' I cry, mortified and annoyed and, God, today was just a _sad_ day, wasn't it? 'I think I'm glitching - I can't stop _crying!'_ I wail.

'Christ,' Leonard mutters, dragging me in for another hug. 'You're not going to start sparkin', sweetheart. You're sad. I get it. Hell, I'd be worried if you _weren't_ cryin', y'know?' The hug is looser this time, and I realise he smells like he's had a shower. A _real shower._ Not one of those horrible Sonic Showers. 'Thought you'd react like this - didn't wanna say anythin' that would set you off-'

'You're _oddly_ good at this,' I inform him with a mumble, my head tucked against his chest and my feet knocking with his. 'Your bedside manner used to be _far_ worse'.

'Turns out livin' in a damn cave for three days changed things, huh?' His words are dry and meaningful, and I smile against his chest and heave in another sob. _Yeah,_ I think. _It sure changed a lot, didn't it?_ He presses a kiss to my hair, and I close my eyes. I want to tell him to stop; that this isn't making anything easier. I want to tell him to leave so that I can begin distancing myself before he leaves, once again, for space.

I don't.

I invite him in with a sniff, inquiring if he has anything planned. He says no, and I grumble that I have been told to stay in my Quarters for the night, like a fucking child. He doesn't disagree with this, and I shoot him an annoyed glance. _I'm not a child. I'm not something to be locked away. They think I'm going to cause damage. That I'm not safe._

'When are you seeing Johanna?' I inquire, as we sit on the table, half-eaten plates of food in front of us.

'Three days,' Leonard replies. He pauses. 'You can meet her, if you want'.

I real grin cracks across my features. 'I would _love_ that,' I tell him.

He stares at me, and I stare right back, and I don't suppose I even have to tell you that the night ends with us curled together, my arms looped as far as they can around him and his head, for once, resting on my shoulder. It's an intimate gesture that we have never shared, one that I have never shared with _anyone_ , and with my fingers slowly finding their way to his soft hair, I say,

'They're going to talk to me about the men I-' I swallow, stop for only a moment, and force the words out. There was no use in stalling. Tomorrow, I would have to talk about the things I had done - _intimately_. 'The men I killed. The Admiral told me'.

He doesn't pause before answering. With his arm thrown across my chest and the smell of him invading my senses, the Doctor grumbles a low and blunt reply, 'They ain't gonna understand you, June. They're gonna be worried and scared and coverin' their own backs. They don't understand you, your power and the damn shit you can do? Hell, sweetheart, _make 'em_ '.

I grin.

I fall asleep with his heavy weight on my chest, and his much taller form shadowing mine as I welcome him against my side, my arm curled beneath his head and my fingers resting on his scalp. I don't know what this is. I don't know if this is mutual comfort of human contact that has been so severely lacking for the both of us - the Engineer from a different time and the bitter, divorced Doctor.

When he wakes up in the morning with his face in my hair, my head turned toward his so that our noses almost touch, and his fingers skimming my ribcage, I'm not surprised at all when he reaches across to brush his fingers against my cheek. I am, though, surprised by his words. So surprised that I blush and grumble and forget what today is and ignore his raspy morning laugh.

'Beautiful,' he tells me.

'Oh, bugger off,' I reply, red and awkward and too close to him to push him away. ' _Handsome'._

* * *

 **I'm so excited for the next few chapters, it's all coming together! I would say five or so chapters, and then the time jumps begin. Ooooh, I'm so excited omg. Okay so I know we're two reviews from the 170 I said I would only update when I got, but I'm just going to update anyway. 175 reviews sound good? I hope you all have lovely days/nights oxoxo**

 **(Also if there is any song requests for the beginning of the chapters, throw them my way).**


	25. Maria

_Maria, you've gotta see her_  
 _Go insane and out of your mind_

Maria - Blondie

* * *

'June - Bones, what the _hell_ are you doing here?' Jim holds his emotions on his sleeve. It's taken me a while to realise that, with how good he is at acting Captain, but the moment he sees Leonard his face falls into a look of utter bafflement. I don't know why he is so surprised, really. All Leonard was doing was walking me to the Headquarters. It wasn't as if Jim had caught the Doctor and I wrapped up in bed like we had been this morning.

'He's walking me,' I quip, feeling far more rested and calm than I had done yesterday. 'Is that alright, _Captain_?'

Jim glowers at me, before looking at Leonard for a long moment. The Doctor shuffles next to me, his back straight and his form stiff, before he sighs sharply and snaps at Jim, ' _What,_ Jim?'

He looks from Leonard, to me, and then back again. 'Nothing'. A pause, and Jim, dressed in a whole new uniform that was dark and grey and far more formal, shakes his head and wipes the curious expression from his face. I let out an internal sigh. Whilst Leonard was going to have to inform Jim of our...sleeping arrangements soon, I would rather it not happen now. 'C'mon. They're waiting'.

Jim leads the way, and Leonard waves me through the same double doors I had walked through with Mister Spock and Jim the day before. I give him a once over, whilst Jim's back is turned, to which he cocks a brow. I shrug. 'Uniform suits you,' I mutter, grinning wickedly when he glares, his cheeks dusting red, and follow Jim quickly into the building.

It was true. The pressed, dark uniform that looked like Jim's (minus a few details, most likely linking to rank) looked _good_ on the Doctor.

I avoid running into a group of busy looking Starfleet Officers, and catch up to Jim's quickly striding form. Leonard does the same, grumbling something under his breath. 'Where's Mister Spock today?' I inquire, tugging at my dark shirt. I was getting _very sick_ of wearing these fucking clothes. The moment I got back to my room, I was insisting Leonard show me how to work the Clothes Replicator in my Quarters to produce something with some _colour._

Jim spares me one glace. 'He was asked to make an appearance at the Academy. Some lecture about relativity-'

'I'm sure Pointy will bore the poor souls to death-'

'Where is the Academy?' I inquire, following Jim into the lift. I needed this conversation; this way to distract myself. I was about to be plonked in a room full of Admirals who wanted nothing me than to question me to their hearts content. 'I'd like to see it-'

'Why?'

I glare at Jim. ' _Because'._

He cocks a brow slowly. 'Y'know, I'd quite like to hear you call me Captain, Miss Adams-'

'Keep me out of your damn fantasies, Jim,' I grumble, darting forward out of the lift when the doors slide open. Leonard lets out a dry bark of laughter, to which Jim orders him to shut up. _I can't talk about that right now. I have no idea what I'm going to do...but the Academy...Starfleet-_ _That would be a mighty adventure, huh?_ I shake these thoughts from my head, before taking in a deep gulp of air.

'It's this way,' Jim says, indicating toward the left, around the spiral staircase leading to the next level. He uses his hand-print, same as yesterday, to gain access to a whole new corridor where large, double doors and gaping windows are spread around this new part of the building. 'We're gonna be outside the door. Seems like the Admirals wanna talk to you by yourself-'

I shrug, trying to look as if this doesn't bother me at all. 'Okay'.

We stop suddenly outside a door, and Leonard speaks next, cutting off Jim. 'They're gonna want you to be as truthful as you can, sweetheart'. I look up at him; the stiffness of his shoulders and the way he stands further away from me and closer to Jim. I nod, suddenly overwhelmed with nerves that nearly knock me over. 'They ain't there to punish you for anythin' - they're just gonna want you to tell them everythin' you can about...about _it all-'_

'Len,' I ease the words out, beseeching his gaze and nodding. 'I've got this'. I catch Jim _looking_ at us both, before I give a deep intake of breath and nod. 'Well, then'. I nod yet again, turn stiffly, and wrap my knuckles against the large door, my stomach practically doing somersaults inside of me. 'You don't have to _wait-'_ I begin to mutter, as a voice from inside orders for me to come in.

'Adams,' Jim replies. 'Shut up'.

'Agreed,' grumbles Leonard.

I nod. ' _Right_ '.

And, with that, I push open the door (a _door,_ an actual working door that doesn't slide into nothing in front of me) and walk into the room, my head held high and my palms sweating and my heart thumping-

The door clicks shut behind me, and I see all five of them. They're sitting on a desk, sleek and black and in the middle of the room, with all of their hands folded in front of them. Two women and three men. All over the age of forty. I walk forward, hardly hearing their greetings as I make my way toward the one chair placed six feet in front of their desk. To the right of the room, there are three large window where I can see the rest of the building. To the left, a blank and dark wall with another door.

The room held no personality, other than the windows.

This was most definitely an interrogation room.

'Hello,' I greet, trying so very hard to keep my voice level. I recognise Admiral Akachi, sitting on the furthest part of the desk. He sits next to one of them women, of whom tilts her head and smiles at me. I swallow, sit in the seat, and fold my hands into my lap. 'I'm June Adams'. _They know that, idiot._ _God, they can probably see how hard my hands are shaking. No, but this is good. An obvious emotional reaction and no sign of by abilities. You can control it. You can do this._ 'Thanks for, er, seeing me'.

One of the women, the one sitting in the middle of table, tilts her dark haired head and smiles, and the wrinkles around her mouth crinkle. When she speaks, I hear that she has an Irish accent. 'The gratitude is all ours, Miss Adams. We at Starfleet understand the...terrible predicament you have found yourself in, due to the negligence of a specific group within our organisation. Thank you for being so understanding and...' She tilts her head, clasps her hands, and manages a smile. I decide in that moment that she is the person I need to implore to the most. 'Well, for what you did on Clion 2BA. You saved many people that day'.

There is a murmur of agreement. I manage a spasm of a smile.

'First and foremost,' Akachi says, sharp dark eyes on me. 'We can tell you that we have a time for the trial of Edgar Bates. Tomorrow at 0900 hours, in this building, we will interview both yourself and other members of the U.S.S Enterprise of whom are familiar with various happenings since your rescue. I find it very unlikely that the trial will last more than a day'.

I nod, fingers still gripped so tightly with one another that my knuckles were turning white.

The woman speaks again, and I assume that she must be the one leading this...whatever this is. 'Miss Adams, using information that we have gained from the Captain's report, as well as those from First Officer Spock and the CMO of the U.S.S Enterprise, we here at Starfleet Headquarters have gained a fair understanding of what has transpired. Bates has been...particularly forthcoming in his research and creation of, what it has been coined, the _Portal'._

Again, I nod. 'He likes to brag,' I bite out, gaze flicking to the floor. Here I was, with some of the smartest minds in the freaking universe, and I couldn't even manage to say something even remotely intelligent. I swallow. 'I'm guessing Starfleet sent some kind of team to the bunker on Clion 2BA?'

A pause, and then a nod. A few of the Admirals shift. Still, it is the woman who speaks. She didn't even give me her name. 'That is correct, Miss Adams. The bodies of the Doctors on Bates team were found, as well as...As well as personal belongings that, upon inspection, appear to belong to _you'._ Upon catching my jolted look, she manages another soft smile. 'They have been delivered successfully, after inspection, and I apologise it has taken so long for you to have them back in your possession. There is no telling what Bates may have done to them, but we found nothing. I have ensured that they are delivered to your Quarters by the end of the day-'

' _Thank you'._ The words come out in a rush. _Belongings_. My bag. My phone. My only possessions in this fucking world - the only proof I had that my life before here even existed. 'Really - _thank_ you'.

She smiles. 'You're welcome'. A pause, in which she glances left and right to her colleagues. 'Miss Adams, now comes the time that we must ask you about your...abilities. Captain Kirk has given us as much insight as he can, and Admiral Akachi has informed the board that you have admitted to _practising_ these abilities. I implore you now to speak freely and truthfully, as to aid us in gaining as much understanding as we can on the matter. We will ask you questions, and you will answer them. Is this sufficient?'

My nails bite into my palm, and I feel a sharp sting as skin breaks. 'Yes,' I say. My voice cracks, and I breathe in, and try again, ' _Yes'._

The nameless woman stares at me, before nodding with a smile. 'Thank you. Now, is there anyway that you can explain how you gained these abilities, Miss Adams?'

I shake my head, expecting this question. 'No,' I admit, and a few of the Admirals shift. _Sorry, guys._ 'And if you're asking me that question, I assume that Edgar Bates can't even give you the answer. He...he tried to explain it to me, when L - Doctor McCoy and I were held prisoner in the bunker. He told me that other things had come through the Portal, I'm guessing from _my_ universe. He only realised it could do _something_ to people when a...when the _boy_ came through. _He_ called him _One'._

One of the men nod, and the others shift and glance at each other at the statement. He's told them that, then. 'Yes. He has spoken frequently of _One_ in his reports since arriving yesterday-'

I cringe. 'Isn't there another name you can give him - some kind of code name or something, like Jon Doe?' The man in question looks mildly affronted, and I plough on, my nervous mouth ahead of my brain. 'When Bates spoke to me, he would use a...He would say that when I went through that Portal, little things latched onto me. Like diamonds. I think it was his way of describing what he did to me, without telling me he had _no_ bloody clue'.

The woman leans forward, brow furrowed. 'Doctor McCoy's many Reports on your various visits to his Sick-Bay described no physical abnormalities. There is nothing different with your genetic code, your blood-' I feel, for a moment, oddly betrayed. Sometimes I forgot that Leonard was my Doctor before he was my friend. I shrug.

One of the men speaks, his face far less kind than the woman's. He cuts across her, his eyes boring into me. I wasn't sure what he was, but there was something not entirely Human about him. A slight blueness to his skin and a thickness to his hair and a colour to his eyes...I would have to look it up later. 'Miss Adams,' he says, voice hard and unfriendly. _'I_ would rather get to the point of your abilities. You can _harm others,_ yes?'

I falter, but I try and hold his gaze. 'Yes,' I reply, pushing my hair from my face and tightening my fingers.

He doesn't pause before speaking again. 'You have the ability to _kill others,_ yes?'

Foot in mouth disease hits with a vengeance, then. 'I think you know the answer to that one, Admiral,' I reply briskly. 'Doctor McCoy was with me when the incident occurred, and I know full well his Report told of what happened. My actions were to protect him, and not for...There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about those men. I...At the time, I knew little of my _abilities._ Bates goaded me into doing _something-'_

He waves a hand, rude and without care. The woman glances to him, and I note that the other woman begins tapping at the PADD in front of her. 'I understand that, Miss Adams. I am not attempting to say anything different than what you did was self-defence. What I mean to say is, we have never encountered someone with your apt to telekinetic abilities. If you pose a danger to society-'

There it is. I nod, gaze steely and forehead beginning to perspire. _Fuck you, Admiral._ 'With all due respect, Admiral, I would not have these _abilities_ were it not for those under _Starfleet's_ employment. As I explained to Admiral Akachi yesterday, I am _learning_ to control these abilities. Think of them like a muscle, if you will, one that I am training to obey my brain. I understand your concern, but-'

'Is it not true that, on occasion, you have accidentally used these abilities due to emotional distress?' My mouth snaps shut, and the Admiral watches me with a close gaze. _Fuck._ My mouth goes dry, because they would only know that from Reports. Reports that would have come from Jim or Len. At the end of the day, I suppose, it was their job to do so. It didn't stop the feeling of utter sadness that swells within me, though. 'Is it not true that you dropped the U.S.S Enterprise out of warp because of your own emotions-'

' _Yes'._

The Admiral leans back. 'My questions are finished, Admiral Lee'. He speaks to the woman, who watches me with a tight mouth and clasped hands. She nods, before taking in a deep breath.

'Miss Adams,' Lee says, calmer than her friend. 'We only mean to convey that...we have to be careful, considering how...how _powerful_ you appear to be. First Officer Spock spoke of the mind-meld he shared with you, and the power he saw within your mind. You must understand, you closed a Portal that was on the brink of destroying a planet. I have, firsthand, seen Edgar Bates research for this Portal. I can only imagine the raw power it would have taken to do such a thing-'

I stand, now, not enjoying just sitting in front of them like a child being scolded. 'You've made your point,' I snap, surprised at even myself. 'I have the potential to be dangerous. Doesn't _everyone?_ I will continue to learn, and I am under not pretence that Starfleet will not be watching me for the rest of my bloody life here. Is that what this is about - to _warn_ me of that?' Lee does not reply, but instead watches me with a compliant expression. _My life is never going to be the same._ 'I _understand_ that. I only want Edgar Bates to get what he deserved for what he did to me and that little boy, and then I will build my own life - _my own life._ I will _not_ be told what I can and cannot do because of my abilities-'

'Miss Adams, I _beg_ you to calm yourself-' _They're worried. Everyone is fucking worried, aren't they?_ I snap my mouth shut, cross my arms, and let Lee speak. 'You understand, yes. Starfleet will have to watch you, but we will _help you._ It is because of negligence from the superiors of Edgar Bates that this was allowed to happen to you. You will have people aiding you in understanding your new life, but we...we must be cautious of what you can do-'

'I _understand_ ,' I snap. I wasn't even sure why I was so angry. Admiral Lee was being fair, but it was the way the man who had spoken to me looked at me like I was dangerous. 'And I... _appreciate_ your willingness to help me,' I grit out. Angry or not, my parents didn't raise an ungrateful brat.

Lee nods.

'I do, though, want to know just how much freedom I am allowed,' I begin, still standing. 'I am not sure how long the Enterprise crew will be stationed on Earth, and I cannot _learn_ without being free to go beyond the building I am staying in. I am on a planet, in a time, that is completely unfamiliar to me. The trial should start and finish tomorrow, and then after than my new life will begin. Am I free to leave my...as long as I am accompanied by a member of the crew?'

She smiles, a friendly smile that tells me she appreciates my cooperation. The others sigh and mutter to each other, and I watch closely, worried. Oh _God_ , I thought such a request would be met with affirmation. 'Computer,' she says, fingers sliding easily to interlock as she leans back in her chair. 'Please tell Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy to come in'.

...What.

I continue to stand, back turned, as the door clicks open and footsteps echo around the room. The Admirals smile and greet Jim and Leonard by standing and nodding briefly, before sitting back down onto their seats. The men stop either side of me, towering above me in a way that makes me feel even smaller than I already do.

'Admirals,' both men say at the same time.

'Captain Kirk,' greets Lee. 'Doctor McCoy. Captain Kirk, I trust you remember the conversation we had yesterday, and what I implored you and Mister Spock to think on?' I frown, looking up to Jim, who stares ahead, and then to Leonard. Both held the straight back and stiff shoulders of people in front of their superiors. 'I understand that your First Officer could not join us today'.

'No, ma'am,' agrees Jim. 'And...yes. I have'.

'Shall we put it to a vote?'

 _Have you ever felt like the one left of of some universal fucking joke?_

Leonard sighs deeply next to me, and the others, including Jim, murmur in agreement. 'Miss Adams,' I jolt to look at her, my expression most likely conveying how fucking confused I was. _What the hell is happening? What vote?_ 'A time period of seven days was discussed yesterday; a time period in which you would be assessed for your physiological well-being, your abilities tested in careful, _calm_ environments, and in which you would not be permitted to leave the Shore Leave building you currently inhabit, for the safety of both yourself and the citizens of San Francisco. Of course, such things as tomorrows trial will permit you to leave'.

 _I'm pretty sure it feels like this._

My heart fucking drops. I gape, incredulous and on the brink of hysterically laughing. ' _What?'_ God, was I that desperate to see San Fran? _No_. Was it the fucking principle of it; the fact that they were locking me away for seven fucking days like a rabid dog, to truly see with their own eyes if I was dangerous or not? Yes. _Imagine the uproar if you got scared and shattered a fucking window on the street, or flipped a car._ I don't care. I don't fucking care. I am a _human being-_

'To those who believe the previous statement to be true, say aye'.

Lee does not.

Everyone else _does_.

Everyone including Jim, quiet and calm.

Including Leonard, gruff and short.

Admiral Lee gifts me with a sorry smile. 'I apologise, Miss Adams. I do implore you to understand that after these seven days, you will be free to do as you please. That is, if nothing alerts us. I can guarantee that it will not - Captain Kirk here has assured me you are _not_ danger. This is a mere precaution for yourself, primarily. We cannot truly know who Bates told of your existence'.

I want to disappear into the fucking floor. I want all of these Admirals to stop looking at me. I want to be home, with my mother, and away from these people who saw only _danger_ and not _June_.

I smile, my chest so tight I'm sure I am about to breathe fucking fire. 'Well,' I bite out, pleasant and stoic. 'Captain Kirk surely has an odd way of conveying this opinion. Thank you for your time, Admirals. I'll be going back to my cell, now. I assure you, it is _much_ nicer than the one Edgar Bates gave me'. I only see her blink, and the others mutter in offence, before I turn heavily on my heel and march for the door, feeling like a fucking _idiot._

' _June_ -'

I curl away from the voice, stalking through the door with my shoulders hunched and my eyes watering. I was _embarrassed;_ utterly mortified that I was not to be trusted. I was not to be alone. I was not to leave the confines of the Shore Leave building. I was a prisoner - a bad thing to be kept away from the safety of the world. _We cannot truly know who Bates told of your existence._ I believed that, of course. I was just too fucking angry to think fairly right now.

I was exactly what Bates wanted me to be. A danger to the world.

I continue to move quickly, swallowing the swelling in my throat and surging toward the lift, entirely ignoring the offended glances of the Admirals and higher-ups that I weave quickly past, and hear Jim muttering apologies to those he himself pushes past. I had hoped I would reach the lift and shut the doors before the two men could slip past the doors.

That does not happen. They join me in the quiet of the lift, the harsh lighting only probably highlighting the angry red of my cheeks and the watering of my eyes. I avoid their gazes like a petulant child; annoyed.

Jim crowds my space, dipping his head to find my gaze as I plant myself in the furthest corner of the lift, my eyes downcast and my jaw tight. Leonard, I see, stands just behind him, his arms crossed over his chest. I want them _gone._ I want them to be far, far away and I don't want to be out in the open anymore - I don't want to be _here._

And I don't just mean Starfleet Headquarters.

Jim's arm twitches, as if he is going to reach for me, but decided against it. 'June, I'm _sorry._ We have to consider all of the possibilities. I _know_ you have everything under control, but-'

'Please shut up, Jim,' I whisper, not trusting myself to not shout if I raise my voice any higher. Of course I understood why they wanted to keep me inside for a few days, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking _hurt_ to know that I was, in some peoples eyes, considered dangerous. In their eyes - my _friends._ Then again, I was not so dim as to not know that I _was_. But I was working on it! I was training it like a muscle in my body. Even now, it was kept at bay, when I felt my utter worst. 'Just _shut. Up'._

Leonard reaches out to slam his fingers against a button next to Jim, and the quiet whizzing of the lift stops suddenly. I look up, baffled and red-cheeked, and glare at the grouchy looking man. He sighs deeply and swears under his breath as he rights himself. _He agreed with them. He thinks you should be kept inside, too._ I want to cry. I want to _scream._

He cocks a wild brow at me. 'If it keeps the Admirals happy, then it's best to just damn do it. I know you're gonna to show 'em, you're gonna to show all of us, but right now it's just _easier_ to-'

'Is it?' I seethe, my fists clenching at my sides and my glare finding Jim's cerulean gaze. 'It's easier to keep me locked away in case I _hurt_ someone? This is _exactly what_ I knew would happen! They're only seeing what Bates _made_ -'

 _BORN. I WAS BORN AND NOT MADE._

Jim pulls a face. 'You're not seeing the bigger picture, June! And don't, not for a second, think that don't have your back, June Adams. You think I could have reported to my higher-ups that my CMO and the guest, who we damn _rescued,_ on my ship were in a _ridiculously_ inappropriate relationship? Hell _yes'._ He stares at me, blue gaze harsher than I had seen it before, though not nasty, and raises his thick brows. I try not to gape, and Leonard shifts behind his Captain and clears his throat. _'_ Don't look at me like _that_. Bones told me you two have been canoodling, but I'm not an _idiot_. I'm not gonna ruin his or _your_ reputations like that. You are my friend and I am trying to _help you -_ can you - can you _honestly_ say that you have _it_ under control-?'

I look away from him, unclench my fists, breathe, and then blink.

With a mere attempt of my thoughts shifting toward the button Leonard had just pressed, the lift starts moving and my head whooshes and I think, _God, I've missed using it._ I feel it stretch inside of me, like a misused violin, and the doors whoosh open a few seconds later. We stand there for a moment and I wipe the blood away from my nose, before looking up at Jim. 'Yes,' I reply, quiet and angry, before pointing sharply forward. 'Go on, then. I need a _chaperone_ to take me to my Quarters, don't I?'

They don't move.

'Fucking-' I mutter, and shove past them and into the lobby of the building, stalking forward and trying my hardest not to allow myself to cry. But, of course, I just always have to get the last word, don't I? I whirl around, and the two of them stumble to a stop behind me. 'I am just _hurt,'_ I snap, raising a finger at the two of them. 'That you would not _talk to me_ about this first. You allowed those people, who I have _no idea,_ to tell me what I can and cannot do with my own _mind'._

Jim's mouth tightens. 'Oh, don't say you're _hurt._ That's worse than being angry!'

'Well, I am. And _you,_ Doctor-'

I cut myself off, squinting at the form so suddenly standing a few feet behind Jim. Others walked around her and throw her glances; the woman dressed in ragged, plain clothes with dirt etched onto the hem of her white, Medical looking trousers and her left cheekbone bruised yellow and brown. Jim stares at me, and Leonard takes a step forward as if he is worried I am having a _stroke,_ or something. The woman stares at me, standing near one of the doors to the exit of the building, her brown hair a mess about her face, and smiles a smile I only remember from my memories.

Oh, _fucking_ hell.

'Um. Maria Atwood is standing over there,' I inform the men, before blinking a few dozen times, rubbing my forehead, and then promptly passing out with a dull thud to my knees and an echo of my name on Leonard's tongue.

* * *

 **So. I always had this planned, and whilst is is annoying, I am trying to convey that Starfleet is somewhat in the right. They're not saying they're going to lock June up forever, they just need to understand her more so they can learn how to help her understand her own mind, y'know? Jim and Bones have seen enough powerful people do bad things, and they don't want a repeat. June knows she's half right and so are they, but she's human and she's going to get pissed. That's why I love her.**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews, you guys are great! I hope you enjoyed the twists and turns of this chapter.**


	26. Ain't No Mountain High Enough

_Remember the day_  
 _I set you free_  
 _I told you you could always count on me, darling_  
 _From that day on, I made a vow_  
 _I'll be there when you want me_  
 _Someway, somehow_

Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell

* * *

Leonard McCoy was used to experiencing guilt

He felt guilty for patients, throughout his career, that he had not managed to save. He felt guilty for how much he fought with his Pa, before he died. He felt guilty that he couldn't make his marriage work. He felt guilty that his job took him into space, beyond anything he would have _ever_ thought he would have landed his ass in, and away from his daughter. He felt guilty that Joanna had parents who bitterly attempted to maintain a relationship for their daughter. He felt guilty that a majority of his talks with his daughter were over video calls.

He felt guilty that he had done to June exactly what the woman dreaded would happen.

He had waited outside of that room with Jim, in the Starfleet Headquarters that made him feel all types of damn uncomfortable. Jim had opened his mouth to Leonard before Leonard could even, _finally,_ admit to Jim that he had grown far closer to June than protocol would ever allow. Not that he gave a damn. He had given _more_ than enough to Starfleet. Still, he couldn't mask his surprise when Jim had turned to him when June, in all of her jittery, nervous glory, had slipped into the room where the Admirals awaited, and had considered Leonard with a quirked brow and a,

'I didn't think she was your type, Bones. You wanna stare at her more like she hung the freakin' moon in the sky, you old romantic, you-'

He was, firstly, annoyed that he had not been the one to tell Jim. He did not want James T. damn Kirk thinking Leonard was sneaking around with June in a way that he certainly was _not._ Secondly, he was annoyed that Jim _had noticed._ Not that Leonard had allowed himself to act upon what he felt for the curious, odd woman who he had more than willingly allowed into his personal space.

He had snapped and grunted at his, admittedly, _best friend_ a good few times, arms crossed and glare only making Jim smile all the wider. His damn _Captain_ had still reprimanded him, of course, reminding Leonard that he should _never_ hide something like this from him, and that June was not someone to be spending too much time with; not when Starfleet had not even had their say in her trial yet.

 _That_ had pissed Leonard off. 'She's not a damn Photon Torpedo, Jim. She ain't gonna _blow up._ The woman was damn lonely and I spent time with her, don't - why in the _hell_ are you lookin' at me like that, you damn idiot?'

Jim, Leonard remembers, had seemed almost proud. That pride had faded rather fucking fast when Jim had found out that Leonard was intending to tell him the fact that he and June had been sharing sleeping Quarters, but only because Spock, the pointy eared bastard, had said _he_ would if Leonard did not. ' _Spock_ knew? And _sleeping together-?!'_

Leonard was forced to shove a hand over Jim's mouth, because people were beginning to stare. He had assured Jim rather blandly that it started as comfort to June, whose obvious PTSD riddled her sleep with nightmares, and because Leonard...well, he wanted to say that he sometimes felt the itching of June at the back of his mind (like whatever the fuck that crazy Doctor had done to her made her wriggle her way into peoples minds, specifically _his_ ), but he does not. He instead informs Jim that he is a Doctor, dammit, and if he wants to help his patients, he damn _will._

'Well,' Jim had replied, a grin sliding onto his features. 'Next time I'm a little shaken up from a mission, I do _not_ give your permission to slide into my bed, Bones. Captain's orders-'

'Shut up, Jim'.

They had been called into the room, and he had nearly smiled at the sight of June, standing with her shoulders stiff and her chin high and her cheeks flushed in a way that told him she was _very_ worked up. He had been on the receiving end of her anger enough times to know the tell-tale signs. Her hair, brushed but still curling wildly, had grown enough that it brushed behind her shoulders, and he could see from the style of it that she had been wiping her hand through the strands in frustration.

He thought of what they might have said to her, as the Admiral spoke and June continued to gulp in small breaths beside him. Had they said what she had dreaded, but what was so true? She was dangerous right now. He had witnessed her practising with her abilities, and it was only when he saw such a thing that he realised how much the idea...well, it damn _worried_ him. June was powerful. More powerful than even she seemed to realise. He wondered if they had shared the fact that he had, of course, given them information on the Medical examinations he had preformed on her.

It was his damn _job,_ but such a thing had felt...out of place.

 _Say aye,_ Admiral Lee had said.

Leonard had, and he knew it was the right thing to do, but he still hated himself for it.

He had followed June out of the room, wanting to scoff at the affronted faces of the Admiral's at June's biting remark, her name on his lips and her fiery red hair swinging as she stomped forward. The way she had walked, angry and frustrated...well, he would never tell her, but it reminded him of a reprimanded Joanna. Jim had been on his heels, equally as justified in his vote, but upset at the idea of upsetting someone who had, somehow, found her place aboard the Enterprise.

Leonard felt _guilt._ He felt guilt that he had not voted for what June had wanted. He felt guilt that she was betrayed by himself and Jim - Jim, the damn idiot, who had not warned Leonard or June of this _vote._ He felt guilt that he was, by voting _aye_ , shutting her away from the world she so desperately wanted to see, even if for a week. June saw things, with those green eyes; she _wanted_ to see things. She ate up this new world with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. He will never understand the way she looks at the looming disaster that is space, but that doesn't mean he isn't half in love with the wonder and amazement in her gaze when she does.

 _In love._ Stupid damn thing to think. When had _that_ ever worked out for him? June was young and beautiful and successful and _bright_ and funny and a damn wild-fire that should never be tamed by his bitterness. He...he was going to be gone and soon; out to space for five damn years, and she was going to build a life for _herself._ June Adams, he knows, was _built_ to show people that despite where she was from, she would never just be Edgar Bates' experiment.

She had been angry. No, perhaps that wasn't the right word. _Disappointed._ So much damn worse. He knows then that Jim realises his mistake; he should have told her what would happen. She would have been angry either way, but the fact that she had not been trusted with this information hurt her more than anything. Leonard stays quiet, in the lift, because he knows that is what she wants. Jim does not.

She proves him wrong, and uses her power in a way that is calm and purposeful, and he knows that she is getting stronger.

And then Maria Atwood, the woman he had heard so much about, is being hounded by the Security in the Headquarters, her shouts of whether June Adams was okay as she dragged away nearly overshadowing Leonard's own growls of, 'I need a damn Medical team - _now,_ Goddammit!' He holds June in his arms, and he suddenly thinks of the last time this had happened, when she was cold and still and on the brink of being _dead._

Now, she was just overwhelmed and alive. Later, he thinks, she would be mortified that she had fainted.

Medical comes and Leonard is brushed away by the Nurses, insisting that they can handle this and that Miss Adams would be fine. He follows the orders from a particularly stern Nurse, complying when Jim drags him away and launches into a tirade of theories and statements and, Jesus Christ, Maria Atwood was alive. _Do you realise what this could do for the trial, Bones?_ _Bates tried to kill all of the Doctors, but she's alive. She's the one who got June out of that place!_

Leonard does not see June for the rest of the night. He is alerted by Jim when June is delivered back to her Quarters, because Jim had tried to knock on her door, only to be ignored. He knows June was probably sleeping (that, or she was punishing Jim in such a June way, but he does not tell Jim this), and he does not try and visit her. He had disappointed her in a way that he knew would feel like the ultimate betrayal to her right now.

Tomorrow was the Trial. She needed to sleep.

He and Jim gather for drinks with Scotty, Spock and Uhura. Chekov will be back tomorrow. He's needed for the Trial, having been in the Bunker and seen things that the Admirals need to know about. Sulu, on the other hand, was entirely wrapped up in his family, and Leonard could not blame him. The day after tomorrow he would see Joanna, and he could not damn wait. He sips at his bourbon, surrounded by so many people in the bar at the bottom of the Shore Leave complex, and he thinks of June, high above him and all alone.

It takes him a full hour to pluck up the courage, but he finally leans over to Scotty admist the smooth jazz music and the mindless chatter, and mutters, 'You fancy paying a visit to June after this, Mister Scott? I know she'd appreciate it, and Jim and I have kinda pissed her off-'

Scotty snorts, gives Leonard a wink, and informs him that the Captain had already asked him to do that. 'I'll go see the lassie, don't you worry. I'll even sneak a wee drink up for her. You two did what you had t' do, Doctor. She knows that. Lass is stubborn as hell, but she knows right from wrong. That's an Engineer for ya'.

Scotty leaves half an hour after that, and an hour later Leonard walks past June's room with Jim, having left Nyota and Spock to continue their discussion on the origins of various Vulcan dialects, and hears the snorting laugh that he knows belongs to June pass through the door. He manages a small smile, before smothering it before Jim can see.

'I wasn't joking, before,' Jim informs Leonard. His Captain follows him into his own Quarters and Leonard pours them both a night-cap. 'When I said I wouldn't mind her calling me Captain. I don't want to... _force_ her, but-'

'I know Jim,' Leonard replies, settling onto the chair opposite the blonde-haired man. 'I know'.

* * *

Leonard hates his formal uniform. It is tight and stiff and the hat makes him feel like a damn idiot. He knows Jim feels the same way too, and he's lost count of the amount of times he's made the joke that Jim's head is far too big for the hat, anyway. They're standing in the long corridor outside the Starfleet Court where, soon, the doors will be opened and they will pile into the room.

He doesn't know why he's damn nervous. Every single person here knows how it's going to end: with Edgar Bates being found guilty. He's nervous, he knows, for June. 'June tried to ask me about that Atwood woman,' Scotty says, as they all gather in a group with their coffees balanced in their hands. Apart from Spock. The damn Vulcan doesn't believe in caffeine to fuel energy. 'Dunno much, anyway - she seemed pretty intent on ignoring the Quarantine thing and findin' Atwood herself-'

'She's calling it a _Quarantine?_ ' Jim nearly moans, back against the wall and a painfully guilty expression on his face. Scotty cocks a brow, Ensign Chekov leans over to eye a passing pretty looking Admiral, and Lieutenant Uhura sips her coffee, flips her hair, and replies,

'Is that not what it _is_ , Captain?' in a tone that Leonard was familiar with. No one could quite beat Nyota Uhura on her passive aggressive comments. It was one of the many things he admired about the woman. That, and the fact she managed to shut down Spock's many tirades of _logic_ and _Doctor McCoy, think logically_ with a mere look.

The conversation flips to Spock informing Scotty that he most likely should not have allowed June alcohol the night before, to which the Scotsman shuts the Vulcan up with a glare and a, 'She's not a damn child, Mister _Spock_. Anyhow, I be rememberin' clearly that when Captain Kirk here introduced you to hazelnut chocolate, ya were damn near _inebriated_ and had to have the sweet forcibly removed-'

Leonard snorts at the green hue that flushes Spock's cheeks, whilst Nyota places a reassuring hand on her boyfriend's shoulder and hides her own smile. Leonard sees Admiral Lee, then, and soon after Akachi striding through the few peoples gathered in the hallway. There were only a few; mostly Admirals and Science Officers who needed to be present. The Admirals talk to one another, before signalling the Security manning the doors of the Court to step aside.

He looks about as they walk into the room, and then he sees June.

She is wearing a dress. A black, knee length dress that shows her pale shoulders and collar bone and flares out at her waist. Her fingers, he sees, grasp tightly at the hem and roll the fabric between her fingers in a nervous manner. Her hair is loose; wild and red and thank _God_ she hadn't tied it up, despite how much more professional such a thing would have been. She is wearing make-up, for the first time, and Leonard cannot quite believe how someone so obviously terrified manages to hold their head high like nothing is wrong.

She's _beautiful_.

Nyota sidles up beside him, before the others can see June's arrival, and whispers, 'I visited her this morning. _Without_ Spock. I can see why you like her, Doctor McCoy'. He glares at the Comm's Officer, to which she smiles up at him with a closed mouth grin. 'She insisted on wearing a dress. She's quite stubborn'.

He grunts, and Nyota turns away with a hidden smile. June, flanked by two Security personnel, catches his gaze over the heads of the Admiral's as they lead her toward the open Court, and holds his gaze for a solid few seconds. She is angry, he can see, but she is _there._ He is about to move forward to reach her, but a booming voice says,

'Ladies and Gentleman, the Court session will soon begin. Make you way into the Court'.

They do, lined up at the front of the tall, white and windowless room where he had been many times in his days at the Academy. The Medical field held for many who needed to be found guilty or innocent, and it was part of his training to sit in on so many of these damn Court sessions. He stands between Spock and Jim, and Scotty is the one only one who sits amongst the watchers of the Court. There are only then of them; those who had been given permission and were trusted to keep this classified information of June's abilities quiet, as well as Starfleet's failure to keep a close eye on Bates.

The Admirals line up at the front, and June is taken to sit three rows in front of him. Her hands are shaking. Leonard glances around and takes a deep breath, wondering where Bates and Atwood were.

Once everyone is settled, the five Admirals wave toward someone at the back of the room, and it is at that moment that Edgar Bates is brought forward, his hands in handcuffs, his white stubble stark against his skin, and his clothes drooping against his form. Leonard stiffens and a murmur breaks out across the Court and Jim swears from next to him, because the man, even as he his led to stand on the opposing side of the Court to June, does not take his eyes away from the red-haired woman.

Leonard is not a violent man, but he would be more than happy to introduce Edgar Bates to the many strains of terrible diseases he has locked away in his Sick Bay.

Lee clears her throat before speaking, her voice amplified across the Court. 'We are gathered here today to judge the guilt of Edgar Bates, once an esteemed Science Officer in Starfleet. Edgar Bates is charged with murder of the first degree six times, kidnapping, illegal experiments, and the endangerment of Clion 2BA'.

Leonard watches June from behind. He watches her shoulders move with her deep breaths and the way her fists clench at her sides as she sits, alone, at the table. _She should not be alone_ , he thinks. _She has no damn idea how these things work_. The Admirals continue to talk, listing the wrongdoings of Edgar Bates, before finally explaining the place of June Adams. The woman was yanked from her time, kept in confinement for weeks on end, experimented on, and finally rescued by the U.S.S Enterprise, Captained by James T. Kirk.

Then, it begins.

Jim stands before the Admirals first, relaying the experience of being beamed upon the _Chronos_ ; the day they rescued June. He speaks of the clues to her abilities, and how helpful she had been. He explains how he learnt of Edgar Bates, and the day on Clion 2BA when he and the ground party had been forced to leave June and Leonard behind. He explains, his eyes flitting toward June, what he had seen her do in the Bunker. Next is Spock. He explains more or less the same in a far more factual manner, before assuring June's experiences were true, after his mind-meld with her.

Leonard is next. He damn _hates_ standing in front of all these Starfleet officials, his gruff voice echoing around the room and all eyes on him.

He says much the same as Spock and Jim. He retells the experience of going aboard the _Chronos,_ just in case anyone needed Medical attention, namely the person they were rescuing, and first meeting June Adams. 'She threw a damn plate at my head. Woman was obviously in distress'. In his peripheral vision, June shifts in her seat. He talks of his experiences with her Medical, leaving out the sharing of beds, before pausing, thinking, and relaying something he should have said yesterday.

'June Adams didn't ask for anything of this,' he drawls, standing and facing the Admirals and trying his best not to look at June, who sits five feet to his left. 'She didn't ask to be yanked to this Universe, she didn't ask to be wrapped up in any of this, and she certainly did not ask to be judged for what that man did to her. I'd be dead without her - pretty damn sure a whole damn species would be dead without her'. He does look at her then, and sees green eyes and flushed cheeks and a face that says _thanks, idiot._ He sighs, purses his lips, and looks back up to Admiral Lee. 'You ask me, I'm pretty damn sure you should be beggin' for her forgiveness for even thinkin' this woman is anythin' but a damn hero. I sure know I will be'.

He is dismissed after that, ignores Jim's hard stare, and watches as June follows his steps with a small smile. Chekov is next, then Uhura, both relaying what they had seen in the bunker with wonder and the what knowledge they had before, finally, Edgar Bates is called to stand. The man stands with his head high and his white hair ruffled, and there is utter silence when he finally takes his stand before the Admirals. There is no shame, Leonard realises, in the way this guilty man holds himself.

He sees June's head turn toward the mad man, and prays to whatever the fuck there is up there for her to keep herself under control. The Admirals will be watching for even the smallest flicker of a light; any sign of loss of control.

Edgar Bates does not wait to be asked a question, and instead launches into a tirade of arrogance and explanation, none of which defend his actions. He speaks with pride that has Leonard's hands curling into fists as his side, and Jim dipping his head and shaking it beside him. Even Spock, Leonard notes, tilts his head in a way that, for the Vulcan, is basically a damn _gape._

'-You mean to say, Admirals, that Two is not a weapon _?_ With the threat of the Klingons, would such a being not be _useful_ in this time? With the proper training, it is _infinite_ what Two could do. I have seen it firsthand. I have seen the _beauty_ of her abilities. My Portal is gone, yes, but I had _plans_ when it began to grow. Plans to ensure she was not the only one'. He pauses and licks his lip, and takes a stumbling step towards the platform the Admirals sit upon. 'It is so _lucky_ that a female came through second, of course-'

'Fucking _Christ_ ,' Jim mutters next to him, and the implications of Bates' words settle around the Court, and hurried murmurs spread like wildfire. Leonard hardly notices Nyota's hand flies to her mouth, for he is trying very damn hard not to throw the PADD in his pocket at Bates. _Bastard meant to fucking breed her._ Leonard feels _sick._ He thanks his lucky fucking stars that Maria damn Atwood decided to grow a damn pair and get June out of there when she did. God knows what could have happened to her.

June, he notices, does not move. Her back is stiff and what little he can see of the curve of her jaw is tight.

'That is _enough,_ Bates,' Admiral Lee snaps, her hands clasped so tightly in front of her that her fingers are turning white. She swallows, and Leonard remembers that she had been the only one to vote for June to not be Quarantined. 'It was agreed that you would talk in this Court to perhaps further the understanding of _why_ you did what you did, and if there was any ounce of regret toward your actions. You continue to fail to see _June Adams_ as anything but a product of your own creation, and not a Human being. You are _dismissed_. Your guilt is clear, Edgar Bates. I call a break of session of fifteen minutes, and after we will truly see the horror of your ways from those who bore witness to it'. The woman waves a hand and the Security go forward to grab Bates. After he is dragged from the room without much hassle, the dozen people watching the Court stand and begin talking amongst themselves, including the Admirals.

Leonard and the others remain seated.

'He is _sick,'_ Uhura snaps, her cheeks flushed with indignation. Ensign Chekov even looks mildly put-off. Jim, on the other hand, was chewing at his thumbnail, a tell-tale sign that he was royally pissed off.

'Quite,' agrees Spock, brow furrowed.

There is the bang of the doors opening, and a few people begin to stand and mill toward the hallway where they had waited before. Leonard is hardly paying attention to anyone else; he sees only how June stands, her fingers pressed against the table-top, and turns on her heel with quickly blinking eyes. Her face is pale, Leonard realises, and she does not glance their way as she surges past them all and heads for the doors. She walks like she has a damn yapping dog at her heels.

'God _dammit,'_ Leonard curses, tripping over his own feet to push past his friends and go after June. They move aside easily, each taking a moment longer to realise what he was doing. Admiral Lee, he realises, was already standing as if to go after the woman who was under Starfleet's care, but nods easily when she sees the CMO of the Enterprise making his way after June.

 _Admiral would have a damn lot to say about it if she knew my concern went beyond darn patient care._

He passes Scotty at the door, who says a quick, 'She went tha' way, laddie,' and juts a thumb right. Leonard follows, his damn dress shoes slamming against the shiny white flooring as he does so. The hallway was quiet this way, away from the hubbub of the Court session. It was a restricted area today, anyway. _Top secret_ , he thinks drily.

He rounds one corner, and finds her standing in front of a large window where the late afternoon sunlight filters through. She is pressed against the white wall and facing the window, her hands wringing in front of her and her hair pushed behind both ears. She is flushed, he sees, with her black shoes wiggling as if her toes were twitching with agitation within them. He knows from sharing a bed with her that this was something that she did, but he knows full well that he kicks his legs out in his sleep.

She turns, hearing him, and her hands fall to her sides and her shoulders sag.

There is a long pause, in which he feels far too big for the damn uniform that was stiff and crisp. He much preferred his airy Medical uniform and the freedom he had within his Sick Bay. For so many years, _that_ was his safe place. That, or his Office. No one to annoy him. No one to ask him stupid questions. He wasn't sure when his safe place started to become a red-haired woman curled around him in her sleep, her light snores and crinkled nose possibly one of the greatest sights to wake up to.

 _Dammit,_ he thinks, swallowing tightly as he stares at her. _I'm darn in love with her._

'They're going to bring Maria Atwood out,' she tells him, her voice far higher than it usually is. She stays where she is, and he stays where he is. June shakes her head, her eyes rolling and her fists clenching and unclenching. She groans. 'The first thing I thought when he said...when he said that he would have fucking resorted to _rape,'_ the word is harsh on her tongue, and she spits it like it is the filthiest word on the planet. 'I just thought _that_ must have been what set her over the edge. I remember her being softer to me as time went on...she couldn't let him do _that._ That's where she drew the line, apparently'. She looks away from him, and then to the floor. 'I want to do to him what I did to those men in the Bunker'. Green eyes find his, and she looks years older than she is in that moment. 'Does that make me _dangerous_?' She says the word with an air of sarcasm, and he knows that she is referring to yesterday.

He walks toward her, then. She lets him. She doesn't glare or turn away as he would have expected her to. She stares him down, unblinking and strong, until he stands a mere foot in front of her. 'No,' he replies, and he believes it entirely. 'It makes you human, sweetheart. 'Cause you damn well _are_ '.

She grins, eyes crinkling and cheeks rounding and she snorts in a way that Joce would never, because whereas Joce laughed with her hand against her mouth and her eyes watering in a way that Leonard still remembers fondly, June laughed like she wasn't afraid to sound like a damn idiot. She loosens her fists in front of her, and Leonard sees the half-moon indents that her nails had made in her palm. One, he sees, had drawn blood 'I really thought I wouldn't be able to control myself when he started talking,' she mutters, flexing her fingers. 'But I fucking _did'._ She grins up at him again, and his stomach drops to his damn feet.

Jesus. He was damn mooning over her like he was seventeen again.

'You still wanna meet Jo tomorrow?' he inquires, swallowing tightly and not trusting himself to not push her up against that wall and kiss her until he couldn't breathe anymore. He hopes she says yes. He'd already informed Joce that he has a friend he would like Jo to meet. It's his little girls first time on a Shuttle alone, and she was damn near _gleeful_ at the idea of doing something so independent.

June wrinkles her nose and throws him a _look._ 'Idiot. Of course I do. Whilst I well and truly wanted to yank those overly expressive eyebrows off your pretty face yesterday - and I still do, to be honest - that doesn't mean I'm _done with you,_ McCoy. Or Jim. Although, I am _far more_ annoyed with him'.

He grimaces. 'Dammit'.

She snorts, slaps his arm, and then sighs. 'I suppose we had better head back. It's mine turn to talk soon'. She winces, and he slips down to hold her hand and pull her closer to him. One night away from her and he felt like he needed to touch her just to make up for it...what the hell would he do for five God damn years? He watches the way her eyes widen and her cheeks flush and her pupils dilate as she looks up at him, and he truly wonders how soft that pretty mouth would be under his own.

'Ya gonna be fine, sweetheart'.

She smiles, leans up, and presses a kiss to the line of his jaw; an action that has heat swirling in his stomach and his eyebrow shooting up. She shrugs, steps away from him and nods. 'Yeah,' June agrees, before nodding for him to follow her. 'You know, Scotty got me really fucking drunk last night. Do you think you'll all want to drink tonight? I was so annoyed I couldn't join you all because I was too busy being bitter and angry-'

He follows her and side-eyes. 'God forbid you don't make your point'.

'Exactly,' she agrees, and shoots him one last smile before her expression falls into that of worry. 'Fucking hell,' she swears, before sighing and moving into the Court and leaving his side, already weaving her way toward her place at the front. He watches her go, before nodding to Scotty who sits at the back, and once again finding his place beside Jim and Spock.

Jim leans over to him, standing in respect as the Admirals take their places, and mutters, 'You're too _cute,_ Bones-'

'I'll skin you alive, Jim. I'm a Doctor. I know how'.

Jim scoffs, and June's name is called by Admiral Lee and Leonard watches her walk to the front, her hands in fists and her feet squeaking against the floor. He sits with everyone else, and watches the back of her head as she clears her throat and looks up to the five Admirals she had faced yesterday. There is a pause, and then the tell-tale signs of the Court doors opening again show Bates, held by Security, and swiftly followed by the dark haired and bruised form of Maria Atwood.

The woman, Leonard can see, is entirely resigned to her fate.

'Miss Adams,' Admiral Lee smiles. 'If you would start at the beginning'.

* * *

 **Yooooo. I am so happy I am reaching these chapter. We are SO close to the ending of this story-line. I'm probably not being accurate at all with all of this Law talk, but oh well. It's all fiction. Anyway, I hope you guys like this whole thing from Bones POV, and seeing June from his POV and all that. The next chapter will be back to June, and her in the Trial. Thank you all so much for the support! I can't believe we're nearly at 200 reviews!**

 **Also, I have had a few people ask whether I named June 'June' because it is so close to 'Jane', eleven's real name in Stranger Things. This is a really good fucking idea, so of course the answer is no. I actually named her June because I love the character from the book/TV show _The Handmaid's Tale_! Good shout though, guys. I sincerely wish I had thought of that, haha. **


	27. You Don't Own Me

_You don't own me_  
 _I'm not just one of your many toys_  
 _You don't own me_  
 _Don't say I can't go with other boys_

You Don't Own Me - Lesley Gore

* * *

'Miss Adam's,' Lee says, and I swallow tightly and try to let me fingers relax at my sides. I try my fucking hardest to hold my chin high and relax my bare shoulders, knowing that every eye was on me. Though there were far less people than I thought there would be, that didn't change the fact that I _hated_ the fact that they were all looking at me. Lee nods a little. 'If you would start from the beginning'.

Where the fuck was the beginning, exactly? Did I start with me, hammered in a nightclub in Oxford, or with when I had first woken up on the _Chronos?_ I had told the story so mine times, in so many different ways, that I had no idea where to begin. What would be considered important or mundane? I had told Leonard the worst of it; the way the Doctors would hold a flame close to my skin and wait for some kind of reaction, how long i had been locked away-

Leonard who, just five minutes before, had approached me in the white and window-lit hallway where I had gone to calm my mind. I could feel the pressure coiling at the back of my mind at Bate's words. _He would have done **that** to me - or made someone else. I was really not even human to him. I'm still not. I'm just a incubus for these fucking abilities. _

I open my mouth, curl my fingers in front of me, and try my hardest not to glance at Maria Atwood to my right. The woman, who I had been so convinced was dead, was pretty fucking alive. So alive that she was _here._ I had caught her eye when she had walked in with Bates, her eyes desperate and sorry and, fuck, I could not _wait_ for today to be over.

'I don't remember anything _special_ happening from before _it_ happened,' I say, but my voice is quiet. I clear my throat, and ignore the other Admirals, choosing only to direct my words to Lee. She listens with avid attention, and behind me I hear someone clear their throat. Fuck, this felt so personal to be sharing with so many people. My words felt harsh in the silence of the room. 'I was out, in a busy place. I just...it was in a _second._ One moment I was there, and the next moment it felt like I was being yanked in about forty different directions. I saw...' I trail off. _I saw stars and space, but is that going to sound stupid?_ 'Stars,' I settle with, shrugging.

I relay the information of coming out of the Portal, and then waking up in the dark and dank room. I tell Lee about them drugging me, so I could not remember where they were taking me. I tell her about the only visitor I had - Maria Atwood. I tell Lee that I had only remembered Maria's kindness when I was aboard the Enterprise, after I had almost died. I tell her about the things they would do to me, to try and gauge a reaction from me. I tell her that I had not realised for a long time that anything was different with me, and when I did I was worried.

'I never felt like it was dangerous,' I tell her, my voice almost thoughtful as I crinkle my brow. 'It's like...another _sense_. Like hearing or smell or sight. In the Bunker, on Clion 2BA, I could feel it _itching_ to help. Like when adrenaline kicks into _anyone_ when they're, I don't know, about to be hit by a bloody - _sorry_ \- by a car. When my - when the Enterprise crew were being fired at by the people in the Bunker, I just _moved._ I knew, somehow, what to do. I don't know if that's because the Portal did _this_ _to me._ But when I...when I directed whatever _it_ is toward the Portal, and I cannot even for a second fathom what that Portal was or how I knew what I was doing...but it _worked_. It felt like pure _adrenaline_. Like instinct to protect them'. I swallow, face hot, and shrug awkwardly. Lee smiles, and the other Admirals stare down at me. 'It's the-the same when I've used it to hurt people'.

The Admiral who had sassed me yesterday squints, before straightening up in his seat above me. I catch the movement, and catch his stare with a blink. He chews on his lip for a moment. 'You mean to say, Miss Adams, that in some respects you are _glad_ for what Edgar Bates did to you. You are glad of this power, and its ability to help you help others-'

I narrow my gaze, my shoulders relaxing as my attention is diverted from my own nerves. ' _No,'_ I bite out, with a hint of incredulity. 'Aren't you _listening?'_ There is a wild shift of movement behind me, and I can just imagine Jim burying his head in his hands. I plough on, red-faced but adamant to get my words out. _They cannot think to make more like me - if there even is a way._ 'What Edgar Bates did was take me away from my home, from my family, and throw me into a world that I'm still trying to understand. He kidnapped me, and would have done _far_ worse to me than those tests had it not been for Maria Atwood. Don't think that me existing is some hope for future _experiments_ like me. That _thing_ deserves to be locked away in whatever damn prisons you have in this world, because I will _not_ keep my mouth shut about Starfleet's colossal screw up if anything _but_ that happens'.

 _Oh, June,_ I think, blinking rapidly as the whirl of anger settles and my words ring in the silence. I had wanted to somehow talk to Starfleet about ways I could ensure my mouth could be kept shut (because, fuck it, I needed to make a life here, and I needed to use any means necessary) but not like this. _You idiot._

The Admiral blinks in shock, all pompous outrage. 'Is that a _threat-?'_

'Yeah,' I reply, stale and tense.

Admiral Lee, who had watched the exchange with a quirked brow, easily interrupts the male Admiral's spluttering with an alarmed look. 'Of _course_ , Miss Adams. I must _implore_ you to understand that _all_ of Starfleet is aware of the sacrifices you have made for the greater good, and how certain Officers under the employment of Starfleet had changed your life exponentially. If there is anything else you would like to discuss in relation to terms, then-'

It only registers once the words are out of my mouth that she had been about to say ' _then we can discuss this later'._ Of course, I lack serious tact, so I blurt out the thought that had been whirling around my mind for what felt like _months._ 'I want admission to Starfleet Academy,' I blurt out, thinking of stars and space and a life where I could learn so much with the Engineering of this world. I life where I could understand a world I never thought I would touch, not in _my_ lifetime. I life where, just maybe, I would be with the people I had started to know.

There are more murmurs, though far more animated this time.

Lee snaps her mouth shut, blinks, and then smiles easily. 'That _is_ something that we can discuss, Miss Adams. I am sure Captain Kirk would not mind me saying that he has already expressed his deepest concerns that you pursue a career in Engineering in Starfleet. For now, I would like to direct my questions to you concerning Miss Maria Atwood. You mentioned her showing you kindness. Expand on this, please'.

I wish I could control how fucking red my face can go, because right now it feels like I'm a human tomato. I cough, remind myself that although I am massively pissed at Jim, I need to give him a hug, and nod. 'Yeah,' I mutter, distracted and bundled with nerves. 'She...I remember she was quiet at first. I couldn't read her very well. It was only when I...remembered what they had made me forget that I remembered how she would talk to me. She was the only one who called me _June._ The first time she was kind to me...it was after they tattooed _Two_ onto the back of my neck'. I clench my jaw. 'She almost cried. It was the first time she told me she never wanted this for me'. I pause. 'I think it was because of what happened to the boy before me'.

The boy. The poor little boy, whose body was God knows where. Probably ashes by now. My skin crawls as I think of Bates, just behind me. Last night, as I had cradled my bag that had been to delivered into my room before Scotty had come to visit me, I had flicked through thousands of pictures of my family and wondered what they would think of this man. What would they think of the things I had done to survive? I had cried, of course, my fingertips ghosting over images of my friends from home; the people I had promised to know for the rest of my life.

I struggle with my words for a moment. 'I think...I think you should remember that when you sentence her. She never...she never wanted _people_ to come through that Portal. I'm not saying she is innocent, and I think she knows that. But I owe her my _life'._ For the first time, I turn and take in the sight of the dozen or so faces looking at me, and Edgar Bates and Maria Atwood standing in front of the first row to my right.

Maria smiles at me; a sad little smile that seems so oddly familiar to me. I remember times when she had held me as I cried, the times she had recited poetry to me and assured me I would not die in that place. I remember times I had screamed at her and demanded she hurry up and let me go, to which she would shake her head and say sorry so much I would nearly throttle her. 'I'd be dead without Maria Atwood,' I finish, turning back to Lee.

Lee nods, as for a few of the other Admirals. 'Atwood,' she says suddenly, her gaze flicking behind me to the woman. I turn quickly when Maria speaks, her voice hoarse and her skin still bruised with healing bruises. Her hair, I note, was no better than it had been yesterday. I wonder where she had been hiding. 'Do you have anything to say on this matter?'

I see her utter disdain before she even speaks, and I think of how I want to be angry at her, but right now I only feel pity for the ruffled shell of the human being that was Maria Atwood. 'I am guilty, Admiral Lee,' responds the woman with a small tilt of a shrug, her British accent a reminder of my days locked away. I breathe in and stare at her, but she does not meet my gaze. 'Ju - Miss Adams has had her say, and though I agree that I tried my best to show her what kindness I was able, I did not stop the horrors that Edgar subjected onto her. I have no pride in my kindness - it was the _human_ thing to do. You sentence me how you please, Admirals'.

I think, right then, that this is a woman who had given up.

'A _traitor,'_ snarls Bates suddenly, and the guards either side of him grab at either arm as he turns to Maria. She stares, resolute, away from him. 'The Portal was of _your_ making-'

'Yes,' agrees Maria, still staring at Admiral Lee. 'And that is why I should be locked away, so no one else can repeat our mistakes'.

I want to shout that she should not; but I know that this isn't a fairy-tale. Maria Atwood kidnapped me, too. She subjected me to tests and did the same thing to a little boy. She should, by all accounts, be punished. _She made the Portal._ She made the thing that almost destroyed so much. So, I keep my mouth shut, I turn back to the Admirals, and I nod when Admiral Lee announces that she had heard enough, and walk toward my seat when told. I exhale, my hands shaking and my cheeks red and my legs like jelly, and looking up to see the eyes of Jim Kirk on me, and his smile is proud.

'Starfleet condemns Doctor Edgar Bates to _life_ imprisonment in the Maximum Security facility Ananke Alpha, as a consequence of his crimes against Starfleet, the Federation, and those of Clion 2BA. He is guilty of murder of six counts, kidnapping of two counts, illegal experiments, endangerment of lives, the breaking of the Prime Directive, and breaking numerous Federation laws'. My hands flatten against the table-top as my breath steals away - _he's never going to hurt you or anyone again or come after you again you got your justice he is gone gone gone._ 'And Maria Atwood, to you, we sentence you to thirty years imprisonment in a facility on Earth - Nerys Omega. Security, take the offending to their holding cells. Court, ladies and gentleman, is adjourned'.

I fall into my seat, my hands rubbing at my mouth as I try my hardest not to smile. _It's done,_ I think. _It is finally, finally fucking over._ I want to cry. I want to laugh. I want to fucking scream. He was gone. It was over. Maria-

I turn, amidst the people standing from their seats and talking quickly amongst themselves, to see Maria Atwood being guided through a side door with two Security at her side. She smiles at me, her eyes wet and her face pale and bruised, and gives me a nod. A nod, I know, that tells me it is okay. That tells me she is not angry. I open my mouth, my smile falling, and nod right back at her.

 _I'll see you again,_ I think.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the crew of the Enterprise stand. I look only briefly, and see Uhura talking quickly to Jim and Mister Spock, as the prior of the two looks sideways at me. I stand, ready to move toward them, when Leonard begins to slide past them, muttering something that they nod at. He must be walking toward me, I guess, but at the moment my gaze catches the sight of Edgar Bates struggling momentarily and, if it not for my attention being directed at him, I would not hear his high whisper of,

' _Twoooo'._

The two Security either side of him jolt him backwards, but no one else seems to notice the way the man's grey and blue eyes are directed solely on me. No one sees how the Security struggle to pull him back, as the Admirals disappear through a door behind the podium they had been standing on. No one notices me cross to the other side of the courtroom, venom on my tongue and a need to get the last word.

He smiles when I stand a mere half a foot from him, and tell the Security to wait just one second - _please_. He breathes in greedily, about to open his mouth, his smile growing. I cut him off, my chest tight and my mouth struggling to get out all the words I want to say to this man; this sorry excuse for a human being, who destroyed and did not _create_. 'My name,' I whisper, staring him dead in the cold eye. 'Is June. _June Adams._ And I _beat you,_ Edgar'. I nod, watching as his cheeks dust with red and his mouth wrinkles into an angry frown. ' _I beat you._ You're going to _die alone'._ A feel a presence behind me, and the the soft voice of Jim Kirk murmurs my name. 'You're going to die _forgotten._ Fuck you, Edgar'.

I turn and stumble toward Leonard and Jim, and clench and unclench my fists until we are safely out of the Court. When that is done, and no one is around, Jim Kirk turns to me with a wide smile and big eyes and yanks me in for a tight warm hug that has me yelping and Leonard sighing. 'I promise you,' Jim tells me, pulling away and planting his hands on my shoulders. 'When you graduate in three years - it's supposed to be four, but I bet my damn left leg you can do it in three - you'll be on the Enterprise. Scotty wouldn't have it any other-'

I roll my eyes and try to ignore the stinging there. 'You can't _promise_ that, Jim-'

'I sure as shit can,' he replies, still smiling. 'I'm sorry, okay? I should have told you. I should have trusted you'. He lets his hands fall from my shoulders, and continues to look at me with a lopsided grin. 'Congratulations, June'.

I pull a rueful smile, and reply, 'Cut it out. You're embarrassing me'. I pause. 'You are a dick, though'.

'Hell,' Leonard cuts in, arms crossed and mouth puled into a stern look as he spies out Jim. 'Even I can agree on that. You did it, darlin'. How long you been plannin' blackmailin' Starfleet into accepting you to the Academy, anyway?'

I shrug. 'Five weeks, give or take'.

'Sweet Lord'.

* * *

I am suddenly _free._

I stand in the apartment that Starfleet had given me for now, my gaze jumping across the scene beyond the window. This is where I lived, now. This is where I would start my life, where I would go to school, where I would try my damn hardest to be the Engineer I knew I could be. This is where I had kicked ass. This is where I had sent my kidnapper to prison.

This is where June Adams would be reborn.

I slide the object in the pocket of my dress into my hand, and hold the slightly battered Rose Gold iPhone in my hand. It was scratched and cracked, but the epitome of everything I held dear to me. Songs, pictures, videos and messages. All of them memories that were so bloody precious now. I look at my lock screen and spy out a picture of me and my friends, my ones from home, crammed into a picture where our grins were wide and our eyes were giving away our inebriation. The battery read 37%. The date read March 7th, 2018. The time was 01:57 AM. It was stuck. Stuck in the exact moment I had departed my time.

My Universe.

Bates was gone; locked so far away and for so long that I would never see him again. Atwood...I would see her, I knew. There was so much I still needed to know; so much I needed to ask her. There would come a time when I would. She had said things in the Trial that made me realise she was guilty, and she knew that. I wanted to forgive her, but I couldn't. Not yet. I wouldn't _let_ myself.

I shower for the second time that day, the music from my iPhone echoing around the bathroom. One of the few things I loved about my impersonal little apartment was the fact that it had a real running shower. I hum along to the lyrics of the song, my hands caked with far too much shampoo and the beat of Nicki Minaj echoing so much that I'm sure anyone next door must be able to hear.

God, I fucking hope not.

I hop out of the shower, nearly slip on the black tiled floor, and proceed to wrap the stark white towel around myself. As I wipe away the steam from the mirror, I can only blink at the person on the side side. My hair, I know, had grown. My eyes were tired and my skin pale, but I looked _older,_ somehow. I wipe my wet strands from my face and huff, before pulling the towel tighter around myself and pressing the button for the door.

I felt almost... _excited_ to be getting ready for something. Perhaps it was the fact that I could feel excitement, without the foreshadowing feel of worry, or fear. Every step from now on...there would not be the worry of Bates. There would not be the worry of him finding me, or my friends. I no longer had to _hide_ anything. I think of this as I step through the door and turn my phone off.

...There had to be some way I could find a battery for it.

I check the time and see that it is nearing five, just two hours before Leonard and Jim had agreed to pass my door to retrieve me. I had glared and thrown the two of them exasperated look when Jim had, subtly, inquired if he could walk me down the bar. I had known what he was doing, of course. I was under fucking _Quarantine_ for the next week. I wasn't allowed anywhere beyond my room _alone._

Fucks sake.

I crawl onto the bed and drag my PADD toward myself, still wrapped in my damp towel, and drag up information on Starfleet Academy. Part of me was fucking elated at the prospect of attending, but another part of me was fucking terrified. It would be hard. That was mostly what Jommin had told me, when I had asked her about it what felt like so long ago. It would be hard work and long hours, but at the end of it...fuck, I could be in space. I could be doing something that was once so beyond my reach.

I could make something of myself here.

I use the access Jim had granted me on the PADD to look at the modules and what an Engineering course would offer. I flick through moving pictures and tours of Starfleet Campus, and for just one moment I feel excited at the prospect of what the future could hold. I feel...I feel _happy._ Of course, guilt quickly spiders into the back of my mind, a constant reminder of what I had left behind in my Universe. People; family, friends, even people I had seen on the street. I was, by taking these steps, leaving that life further and further behind.

I find myself, some minutes later, scanning through online fucking magazines. Now, no judgement, okay? There is a whole world out there where I am suddenly the epitome of _old-fashioned._ Hell, Britney fucking Spears was considered classical music here - I was ancient. I needed to see what _fashion_ was. I needed to know music and films and, Jesus, were celebrities even a thing here? Were-

It is then that I glance at the time, and all but trip over my towel to stumble toward the Clothing Replicator. Nyota, in my fumbling, hungover mess this morning, had shown me how to use the thing. I had just about forced the woman to find me dresses, and I was more than ready for the same thing. Dresses made me feel powerful and confident and, to be honest, I was fucking sick of dark trousers and t-shirts. _Really_ bloody sick of them. It is with that, and my hair drying in messy curls about my face, that I scan through the simple clothes the Replicator could offer.

It was one of the many things that made me happy for this future. Basic clothing was accessible to _anyone._

I decide, in my half-tired mind, on another dress. _White._ Everything else here seemed to be so slick and clean and white, why not give it a go? Plus, well...it was a pretty colour, and maybe I wanted to look nice. Maybe, just maybe, I wanted Leonard to see me in something other than those horrible Starfleet clothes. The dress appears before me, atom by atom, until it is underneath my fingers. Off the shoulder, knee length, and loose. Simple and pretty, and fuck me if I hadn't missed pretty things.

I replicate some plain black sandals, rake my fingers through my hair and tie half of it in a bun at the back of my head, before wondering if there was any fucking way I could replicate some God damn concealer, because _my God_ my eyes had bags for days underneath them. I slam around with the Replicator for a while, yelling words at it until, finally, _cosmetics_ makes the screen flash with basic products. Mascara, foundation, and lipstick.

Okay, the kidnapping and near murder aside, the future was _great._

I mascara was my eyes, slap on the tin bit of foundation where the bruising of tiredness showed, until finally dabbing my lips with a sparse amount of red lipstick. For just a second, as I look in the mirror of the bathroom, I feel just slightly like myself. I look _stronger._ Less tired and more alive; more willing to be happy and to want to be here.

And, just like that, I smile in the mirror and see June.

I see a little bit of the woman who used to exist.

* * *

 **Hello, hello, hello! I'm not dead lmao. I took a loooong break from this fic, and now I am back. I hope you guys liked this, and onward with June's story! It took me a long time to get to the point where she can start making her life in the future, but she's finally there. In a few chapters times we're going to be getting some time jump chapters, and I am super excited for what's to come. Thank you for getting me to over 200 reviews, too! u guys r the best.**


	28. Everywhere

**I don't normally write before a chapter, but I received a review that really, truly pissed me off. I've got bad review before, every writer is going to get people who don't enjoy their work. That's life. To the person who write this (I wanted to message them privately, but shockingly they did not leave their name):** _There are a lot of grammatical mistakes throughout this and it's super-annoying when an author begs for reviews. In spite of that, this is interesting but it looks like you've abandoned it. Which isn't surprising, given the begging for reviews, etc. It's too bad. A better writer could really do something with this._ **To you, I say this: Is it annoying when I, someone who has worked their arse of on a piece of work (whilst in their third year of University), would like validation and feedback? You know what, I am truly sorry for that! I can't believe I would do such a terrible thing! How on Earth will you go on, knowing that I have ruined your day by doing something as utterly diabolical as, gasp, asking for _feedback_? Truly, I hope you are okay. Unfortunately, this is not abandoned. _So_ sorry to ruin your day even more. Anyway, thanks for answering my begging and lifting my review count! **

**Sincerely, qarlgrimes.**

 **On with the story!**

* * *

 _We better make a start_  
 _You better make it soon before you break my heart_

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac

* * *

'What's this?'

'Andorian Ale, lass'.

'But, it's _blue_ '. I trail my finger down the digital drinks menu. The flimsy material presents me with an assortment of ever-changing drinks. 'What about _that_?'

'Romulan Ale-'

I wrinkle my nose at the funny coloured image displayed before me. 'What is up with the funky coloured _ales_ -? Oh, fruit cider. It _is_ fruit cider, right?'

Scotty offers me a twisted smile, his elbows planted on the bar in front of us and his smart shirt unbuttoned in a way that forced me to swallow my amused smile. 'It is, lass. Now, I wouldn't let Mister Chekov see you drinking _that_ when he gets here. The lad feels very strongly about his spirits. Oi, here are the Captain and the good Doctor now-'

I turn, my fingers leaving the menu and jolting to the hem of the white dress I had chosen. I felt oddly... _nervous_. The Trial, having ended just hours before, seemed a million miles away as I watched Jim and Leonard, dressed in embarrassingly similar casual clothes, approach the two of us. Whilst Leonard placed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Jim seemed to be peaking animatedly about... _something_.

It is perhaps for the first time that I realise my company among these people went beyond my tragic story. The Trial was over, the sentences had been given...and yet here I was, in the company of those who had requested it. The thought only brings forth the reminder that they would not be here forever. Soon, they would all be thousands and thousands of miles away; somewhere I could only work my arse off to reach.

I swallow when Leonard looks up from where he had been side-eyeing Jim with a dry look, and rub my sweaty palms against the exposed skin of my thigh. The Doctor blinks once as they approach, his mouth twitching and his expressive eyebrow quirking, and I fumble for the drinks menu once again.

Soon, _he_ would be thousands and thousands of miles away.

The thought makes my stomach ache.

I end up hastily ordering some pinkish coloured cider from the menu to the man behind the bar. I try not to stare, really, but his crinkled pinkish skin and shell like ears are both a wonderment and a baffling thing to see. I wasn't sure I would ever get used to all of these wonderful lifeforms. Scotty greets the Captain and the CMO with a hearty hello, whereas I barely have a moment to open my mouth before Jim is plopping onto the stool next to me and grinning.

'June,' the man practically sings. I smile almost pleasantly, surprised at the lax tone the Captain of the Enterprise was presenting me with. I suppose this whole thing was a win for him too; another person safe, another bad guy taken down. 'Aren't you looking utterly _radiant_ this evening?'

I throw him a stiff smile and cock a brow. 'Why are _you_ being weird?'

Leonard, who sits heavily in the stool to Jim's right, waves at the bartender whilst muttering a snide, 'He's always _weird_ '. A pause, and then, 'We've been given the go ahead to carry on with the five year mission in four days. Jim's itchin' to get goin' - kid's practically pink with barely contained _glee_ '.

My stomach drops, but my mouth stays frozen in the polite smile. I do, however, catch the glance Leonard throws over Jim's head as his words hang in the air. I meet his gaze, my heart heavy in my chest.. A statement hangs between us; a promise that we will talk later. I tare my gaze away and take the pint of pinkish liquid that is pushed my way, just as Scotty begins angrily berating Jim for not telling him they would be leaving so soon. According to the Scotsman, the Enterprise wasn't _nearly_ ready.

I push the pint to my lips as Jim sighs and utters a, 'Scotty, there's not much more you can do to her before my ship becomes some hybrid of your making', and, after taking a small swig, promptly swallow, splutter, and swear.

 _Loudly_.

'Oh, what is _that_?' I rasp, wishing desperately that I had not worn red lipstick. I wanted nothing more than to wipe hastily at my lips and rid my mouth of the _burning_ hot taste that had assaulted my taste buds.

Scotty whoops a laugh. 'Lass, you've ordered _chilli_ cider!'

I gape, just as Jim scoffs. 'Why is _that_ a thing?' I ask incredulously, just as the slightly put off bartender slides a glass of water my way. 'Oh, no,' I croak around a mouthful of cool, refreshing water. 'I think I've offended him'. Scotty laughs into his scotch, whereas Jim continues to splutter laughter into his fist. 'Oh, bugger off, Jim'.

The man laughs, before turning in his seat and glancing with a cocked brow over his shoulder when Chekov and Sulu come walking down the steps of the complex we were staying in, and into the bar. At Sulu's side, I see the man I assume to be his husband. I greet them with a smile and blush when Sulu, a man I had scarcely spoken to, congratulates me on the outcome of the trial.

The buzz of conversation soon filters through the bar as people stand and talk to one another, and I feel than rather see the glass of clear liquid slide my way, accompanied by a tanned hand. I spy out Leonard with a side-eye and a slight smile, my hair twisted nervously about my finger. He cocks a brow at me. 'Figured you weren't gonna be drinkin' that muck anytime soon,' he offers, standing and slipping into the stool Jim had once occupied.

I eye the rest of my terrible drink and sigh. 'What a waste'. Wrapping my fingers around the glass Leonard had pushed my way, I take a slight whiff and blink up at him. 'Lemon?' I ask.

He eyes me, elbows planted on the bar in front of him and amber coloured glass sitting underneath his chin. He was lovely like this, I decided. So different to the man who walked the corridors on the Enterprise. After a moments pause, he replies gruffly, 'Figured it was close enough to that lemon muffin you wanted, and seein' as you ain't leaving these rooms for a while...'

I can only stare, my mouth quirking.

' _Drink_ it, woman,' he orders, turning away from me with a crinkle of his brow and what I'm sure is a flush to his cheeks.

I grin, before sipping idly at the drink, and hum in appreciation at the taste. 'Lemon gin and tonic?' I ask, practically drooling at the taste. 'See, _this_ I can get on board with-' I catch the stink of eye of the bartender once again and duck my head. 'Whoops'.

The silence between us stretches for only a few more moments, and in that time I overhear Chekov speaking of visiting his home of Russia, and of Scotty inquiring where Bates would be held. I hardly listen. It wasn't shocking to think that I would have to get used to people speaking of the Trial as if it were gossip. From what I knew of Starfleet, this was a a super _duper_ scandal. I spy out a few more smartly dressed Starfleet Officials spilling into the bar, with its white walls and smartly curved tables, and I almost feel like I'm drifting back again, back to that awful place of feeling that I don't belong here.

The words spill from my mouth unconstrained. 'You're leaving soon,' I mutter, turning back to eye him. Leonard had apparently been reading the specials board hovering over the mirror opposing us, where I see a flicker of a paragraph describing the new taste experience of chilli cider. _Gross. Maybe I should warn people._

He turns to me, and I see a trace of five o'clock shadow gracing his strong jaw. There is knowing in those hazel eyes, and I feel my heart tug in worry at the thought of not arguing with him, berating him, or even _seeing_ him nearly every day. Was it loneliness that had made me so attached to him, or genuine affection? He hums sharply in affirmation, gaze locked on mine.

I open my mouth to say something, fuck knows what, when a sharp call from Scotty snaps me out of my self pity party. 'Oi, lass, c'mere. Got somethin' I wanna show ya'.

Twenty minutes later, I find myself sipping the second drink that Leonard had slipped quietly my way, whilst tapping animatedly at a holographic screen hovering before me. On it, there was some kind of game that seemed a mix of Pac-Man and Grand Theft Auto, something of which was a terrible combination, but also oddly amusing. Opposite me, Scotty swears like a true Scotsman, whilst balancing a pint of dark liquid in his left hand.

'Ha!' I whoop, branding a pointed finger at Scotty. 'I win!'

' _How_ ,' grouses the Engineer, eyeing me with suspicion. 'Are you so _good_ at this, lass?'

Jim, who sits with Sulu and his husband on the table behind me, sighs. Leonard stood with Chekov to the right, and Uhura and Spock, who had only recently appeared, sat near the bar. A few other people had joined the midst, most of whom I didn't know at all. 'Scotty, we're not having another incident like when you and Nyota played-'

'That was the lass's fault, Captain! The woman is _lethally_ competitive-'

Sulu scoffs into his red wine. 'You called her every name under the sun in Old Scottish-'

Leonard joins in, a smile to his face that makes my chest burn. 'And broke the damn holo when you realised she could speak _that_ , too-'

'Traitors,' mutters Scotty, stepping away from the hologram. 'The _lot_ of ya'.

I sip idly at my drink as I turn away, my cheeks warm and my mind whirling from thought to thought. It was times like this, when drink and happiness filtered into the air, that I felt the guilt of forgetting to miss home rise up. It was stupid, I know, to feel guilty for something that I couldn't help. But now, with the dual guilt of Maria Atwood...

'Got that damn look on your face like you're thinkin' too hard, sweetheart'. He sidles up to me in the midst of loud conversation and laughter, in the moment that my mind had been wandering to darker places. With broad shoulders and sharp eyes, his stands before me, glass in hand and mouth tugging into a small smile. 'Should of said earlier, but you're lookin' beautiful tonight, June. Nice seein' you in something other than _black_ '.

I'm sure my face goes the colour of my lipstick, and he knows it too. The smirk tugs higher, right up until I wack him lightly on the arm and tell him to shut up does it blossom into a quick grin. 'You're an idiot,' I mutter, wiping at my hot cheeks.

'I'll remember you said that,' the Doctor replies. 'Still, figure I'll be the better person. Come with me'.

I frown, mid-sip. 'Huh?'

Leonard rolls his eyes, tips the rest of his drink back, and plonks it on the high table to our left. When he turns back to me, there's an exasperated expression on his face. 'Ya heard me. Jim's got the rest of them _enamoured_ with some story about him savin' the God damn day - _again_. C'mon'.

I do, but not without glancing back worriedly at the people who barely notice us leaving. I can't imagine we're leaving the building - no, that's not something that had been permitted. So, with quick steps and hands clasping the hem of my dress, I follow the long legged steps of Leonard, huffing out a, 'Shit, Usain. You wanna slow down?'

I dodge a group of smartly dressed Officers my eyes downcast and my red hair shadowing my face.

'Not gonna pretend to know what that means,' he grumps, but complies. He leads me through disclosed areas and down short corridors, until we reach an elevator with a key pad smack bang on the front. I watch as he types in the numbers, glances at me with an amused expression, and then tugs me forward with grunt and a smirk. 'Christ, woman. Figured you'd trust me by now'.

I glare at him, cheeks pink with gin. 'I _do_ trust you, I'm just not that used to you being this _odd_ '.

The doors slide closed silently, and he looks down at me, shoulder to shoulder, with a a smirk. 'Now you know the feelin', sweetheart'.

'Ha, _ha_ -' My mouth snaps shut when the doors slide open, seemingly seconds later. Rather than plain white walls and bland uniforms, I see the hint of an evening sky, polluted by light. I smell clear air. I feel the cold. I hear voices, noises, the sound of a City hundreds of feet below me. It takes me a second to understand what all of these means, before I turn to Leonard with a gaping mouth and a, 'The roof?'

He cocks a brow. 'You gonna stop bein' such a smart-ass now?'

I step out, and my skin prickles at the chill. It was hard to fathom why I had not fought to be outside, since they had banished me to be locked in doors. Perhaps I had been too busy worrying about the Trial, or mourning my old life, or understanding my abilities. Perhaps it was all of these things at once, but nothing could prepare me for the sight of pink and blue sky and buildings sprawling for miles and miles.

From on top of Starfleet Headquarters, in the year 2260, I stare out into a world that was now my home.

I'm not sure when I had walked out into the middle of the roof, where white glass surrounded the edge, and the floor beneath my feet was white and clean and marred only by small traces of dirt. Leonard stands silently behind me, a watchful figure as I turn from left to right, feasting on the scaling buildings, all of them reflecting the light of the dim sunset. It was not a magnificent sunset by any means, but it was wonderful one reason.

'I haven't seen a sunset in ages,' I murmur, transfixed on the weakening colours. I swallow, fists clenched and brow furrowed. He walks up beside me, a slide of his shoes against the floor. 'Is this what you feel like every time you come back to Earth?'

There is a pause before he answers. 'Haven't felt like this in a while, sweetheart'.

I look at him, but he remains staring ahead. He is far taller than me, so reaching up to tug him into a hug requires me yanking at his jacket sleeve until he huffs and folds me into his arms, all stiff and broad and mouth pressed against my hairline. 'You're leaving,' I repeat, my words from earlier echoing against his chest. He smells like coffee. I wonder how much he's had today. 'Three years'.

'Three years,' Leonard agrees. His cheek rubs flattens against the top of my head. 'You'll suit red'.

The thought makes excitement tug inside me in a way that I had almost forgotten. My blackmail had paid off, and I would apparently be attending Starfleet Academy. When, I didn't know. But I would...I would once again be tinkering and playing with instruments of Engineering; I would be learning once again. I snort against him. 'I bloody better. I _still_ can't believe I pulled that off'.

His fingers play against the small of my back, and I lean closer into him. He is warm and solid, and I think of a word that is on the tip of my mind, but lean away from it. It's too soon. It's too late. It's a lot of things to be feeling _that_ , because no matter what...it's useless. It's hopeless. He would leave and I would stay, and I would try to bring my scattered life to a whole in that time. 'Seen you do far more impossible things,' he counters, breath warm against my hair. I-

I tug away from him suddenly then, a thought coming to mind that had been banished in the midst of our disagreement and the Trial. ' _Johanna_ is here tomorrow!' I yelp, fingers curled around his jacket. 'Shit, I almost _forgot_. You must be so _excited,_ dude! What are you-?' He stares at me with such an intensity, his head dipping and his hands tightening around me, that my mouth snaps shut and my stomach rolls because, fuck, was he going to _kiss_ -

It is at that moment that his Comm trills a horrible, annoying as _shit_ beep.

I try my hardest not to roll my eyes and mutter a bitter, _'Fucking typical',_ as Leonard clucks his tongue in an annoyed manner, his arms dropping from my sides and his Comm quickly appearing in his hand. I try my hardest not to blush or squirm, instead opting to blink out at the quickly darkening sky and glittering of the lights of San Francisco.

He probably wasn't going to kiss me. He's a fucking _Chief Doctor -_ a _genius._ And, on top of that, he's ten years older than me. I'm probably nothing more than a friend he finds himself looking after far more than he should-

He sighs sharply through his teeth, and my attention if once again dragged back to the characteristically grumpy looking Leonard McCoy. At my bemusedly inquisitive look, he merely rolls his eyes sky high and mutters a, 'Ya promise you won't get annoyed?', whilst stuffing his Comm back into the pocket of his jeans. _Jeans._ I never thought I would see the day, but I suppose I had got oddly used to him in that Medical uniform.

I refrain from glowering. '...Go on'.

Leonard crosses his arms over his chest and considers me with a level look. 'It was a damn automated reminder,' he bites out, watching me carefully. 'From Starfleet. Admiral Lee, whilst keen on makin' you as comfortable as she can here in the transition period, has been pretty damn adamant on the fact that...well, that you're gonna need a full Medical exam. Beyond what I did just takin' blood and the likes on the Enterprise. They wanna know...more-'

I nod, sharp and with a pang of embarrassment. I'm like a _thing_. 'No, sure. I get that - oh, don't look at me like _that_. I don't make _everything_ difficult-'

'You sure as shit do, sweetheart-' He cuts himself off, hazel eyes scanning me quickly. I notice the way the fringe of his hair lifts slightly in the evening breeze, and I wonder when I became such a sap that a sight like that makes me heart beat faster. 'I'll be there,' he tells me. 'The whole darn time. You've been my patient since the beginnin'-'

I throw him a half smile. 'Be still my beating heart'.

He cocks a brow. 'That Southern charm gettin' to you, sweetheart?' He scoffs when I roll my eyes, before shuffling forward in a way that takes me with him. We linger near the glass that surrounds the roof, keeping us safely from toppling down into the busy streets below. I look at those streets now; the ones so different and so alien to any world I had ever known. 'You still wanna meet Jo?'

My shoulders relax and my smile is quick when I look up at him. Nothing had changed. He still wanted me to meet her. 'Of _course_ '.

He nods, and we stand, shoulder to shoulder. It's odd, to know someone so quickly. You feel as if you shouldn't like them as much as you do. Or maybe that's just me, and my knack for being an emotionally constipated Brit. 'You're gonna do this, June'. He tells me with clarity; a dip of his head as he glances down at me and away from the skyscrapers and _flying cars._ 'You got this far'.

My smile is wry and words are quiet, despite the bite to them. 'You should be a motivational speaker'.

He scoffs. 'I know a hell of a lot of people who would disagree with you'. The sky darkens, and the air becomes colder. I shift closer to him, my mind humming with everything that I want to say. 'Wanna go back to your rooms and watch one of those damned films you're always talkin' about?'

This is why I am drawn to him, I decide in that moment. Because even though I am odd and out of place, and so horribly weird, Leonard McCoy offers to watch a movie with me, even after telling me that he will preform a full medical exam on me, to decipher the cause and effect of my _abilities_. Even after standing witness to a trial in which I condemned a man and a woman to prison. Even after knowing, full well, that I am dangerous and a human, twisted to fit the whims of a mad scientist.

Even though I am 02.

Yet, in his presence I only ever feel like June.

I grin, delighted. 'You're going to love _Alien_ -'

'I can almost guarantee that I will _not_ '. When, after four seconds of quick breathing and chewing my lip, I nudge my fingers against his, he clasps my hand in his own. His palm is warm against my own, and when he mutters, sharp and low, 'Last thing I expect to find up there was _you,_ sweetheart'.

His warmth is like fire, I decide, and I am _freezing_.

* * *

 **I live! I am so sorry for the long wait between updates, University is a bitch. Thank you so much to those who have reviewed and followed in that time, and dealt with me being so shit! Anyway, a slight relationship building and filler chapter, but I figure I may as well give June a little break and get myself back into the swing of writing.**

 **Thank you again lads and ladies!**


	29. I Think We're Alone Now

_Children behave, that's what they say when we're together_  
 _And watch how you play_  
 _They don't understand_  
 _And so we're_

 _Running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another hands_  
 _Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me_  
 _And we tumble to the ground and then you say_

I Think We're Alone Now - Tiffany

* * *

It is Jim who knocks on my door that morning, his mouth quirked and his brow raised as he leans just slightly round me to peak into my rooms. In return, I glower at him over my steaming cup of coffee and ask him what he wants. The Captain of the Enterprise chews the side of his mouth and replies, cheekily, 'Thought Bones might be in here'. At that, I am sure I flush a deep red and sputter in return. Jim waves a hand at me. 'Quit that, June-Bug. I know he isn't - Joanna arrived earlier. Plus, I'm _well aware_ our mutual friend wouldn't do anything improper to you _just_ yet-'

'Oh my _God_ , Jim,' I practically groan, stepping back as he nudges his way into my rooms with a roll of his eyes and a muttering of _idiots_ and _grumpy doctors_. 'Any reason you're intruding my morning ritual, Captain?' I ask blandly, pressing a quick button that slides the door shut. It was early, only half seven in the morning. I had slept early the night before, bidding Leonard a farewell from my rooms as he told me he needed to call his ex-wife before Johanna arrived in the morning. Turns out, he had hated _Aliens_ just as much as he hated _Alien_.

He spins on his heel, dressed in casual clothes that highlight his astonishingly blue eyes, before swiping his PADD from his pocket and brandishing it toward me. 'This is why I am here, _Cadet_ '. I frown and peer at the glowing screen, before Jim scoffs at my suddenly shocked expression. I gape back up at him. 'Starfleet works fast when under the threat of blackmail, apparently. Good job on that, by the way. _Just_ what I would have done'.

I look away from the acceptance letter, in all of its golden written golden. 'So...that's _it_?'

'That's it'. Jim shrugs a little. 'Well, not _it_. You'll have people prodding and poking at you for the rest of the week, then will be the worry of housing - high ups aren't sure whether to room you with someone or not at the Academy. Then there's creating a new identity for you...I mean, you can't really be telling everyone you were born over two-hundred years ago, can you? _Then_ you'll have some personality and academic tests-'

I blink. 'I hadn't even _thought_ of all of that'. I sip hastily at my dark coffee, the worry and nervousness niggling at the back of my mind. Fucking hell, there was so much I would have to do to settle here for the next three years. I would have to make a real, comfortable life. I didn't even know how to pay for things here, or...or cross the _road_!

Jim plants a quick hand on my shoulder. 'You'll be fine, kid. I've got the best in the Academy looking out for you. Lee is pretty keen on making sure you don't suffer too much; gotta tell you, though, the workload at the Academy is _killer_. Prepare yourself'.

'If anything,' I reply. 'That's the thing I'm most excited about'.

Jim grimaces. 'Just when I think you're not a total nerd, like Bones'. I stick out my tongue, to which he grins. 'Enjoy the view last night, anyway?' He eyes me cheekily, his elbow coming to rest on the counter to our right. I peer at him, cheeks flushing and mouth curling into a frown. Jim waves a hand. 'I told Bones I'd distract everyone - figured you needed to get out of the place after the Trial and all'. Kirk stares at me suddenly, face settling into something more serious, as if some _serious_ fucking words were on the tip of his tongue.

I blink, shrinking somewhat. ' _What_ , weirdo?'

'He's good, you know. Bones, I mean'. I want to whither and die, I decide. This was _ridiculous_. 'The best I know'. For someone who had been trained in being tactical, Jim Kirk could be anything _but_.

I stare blandly back at him. '...No,' I tell Jim quick pointedly.

He blinks heavily. 'Huh?'

'I am _not_ being taken down to a cliche who talks about her damn _feelings_ , James. Not after the shit I did yesterday. What I want right now is food, and then to prepare myself for meeting a child who, if she is anything like her father, will be able to read my bullshit from a mile away _'._

Jim grins, apparently pleased with my answer. 'Oh, just _wait_. Jo is a genius; the kid is _just_ like Bones. Sharp and sarcastic as anything'. He tilts his head, as if he was weighing a thought in his head. 'I haven't even asked...You're gonna take the Engineering track, right? I think you'll break Scotty's heart if you don't'.

I shoot him a _look_. 'What _else_ would I do?'

Jim smiles, all white teeth and sparkling eyes, before he takes a step back. 'Get yourself dressed, Adams. I'm hungry as hell, and the food down at the Bar isn't half bad. Doesn't come out of a Replicator, at least'.

* * *

I like kids.

They're simple and honest and find the light in everything. I _loved_ being a kid. I loved the innocence that I could find in anything, I loved bring curled up against my mum after a long day of school, I loved crawling into my dad's jumper when I was still small enough to fit...I loved the brightness of the world, before reality came crashing in.

Johanna McCoy is a good kid. For that, I am eternally grateful. I honestly don't know what I would have done if she'd had one of those screeching kids voices that make my ears want to bleed. No, instead of this, Jim and I are greeted by a blue-eyed and dark haired little girl, her face a readable expression of curiosity, and her lilac dress depicting some cartoon that I was not familiar with.

She beams, highlighting her missing front tooth, and chirps, 'Jim!' in a way that tells me she is more than familiar with Captain Kirk, and he had already won over the affections of the youngest McCoy. I try and swallow my nervousness, suddenly very aware of the fact children were honest and perceptive and-

Over her shoulder, I see Leonard, a towel thrown over his shoulder and the sleeves of his short rolled up to his elbows. When his hazel eyes, different from his daughters, flash to mine, I really understand for the first time how much he was letting me into his life. I had opened myself to him first by force, and then by choice. Leonard...he was letting me meet his _daughter_. He was letting me see beyond the Doctor of the Enterprise. I wasn't stupid enough to not recognise that, for someone like Leonard McCoy, this was a _big deal._

It made me feel all _soft_ inside to think that someone like _him_ truly appreciated me enough as a friend to do something like that. To surround me with noise and people and a familiarity that I missed more than anything.

I was determined to prove that he had made the right choice.

We walk into Leonard's quarters, and whilst Jim inquires what Leonard had cooked, I am greeted by wide eyes and a quick hand being thrust in my direction. Johanna McCoy, in all of her unabashedly staring glory, says, ' _You're_ June. Dad said I'll like you'. She holds her hand out still, and it takes me mere seconds to realise that she wants me to shake it. Not odd at all.

I clasp her hand, small and soft, and shrug and quirk a smile and reply, 'Well, I'll guess leave that up to you, Joanna'.

She stares for a moment, blue-eyes narrowing for just a second, before she replies, 'You can call me _Jo_ ', with a small shrug and a tone in her voice that makes me think that this is a _mighty_ compliment to my character.

'Quit bein' a little madam and get ya butt over here, Miss,' Leonard drawls, all humour in his hazel eyes and fingers snatching the towel from over his shoulder. Joanna turns and considers her father with a withering look, before grinning toothily and making her way over to him. I catch eyes with Jim, who cocks a thick eyebrow as if to say _told you so._

After Joanna is ordered to wash her hands in the bathroom, Leonard grumbles about his daughters picky eating habits, whilst Jim snorts and replies, 'Like you aren't exactly like her, Bones. You know he doesn't like _chocolate_ -'

I lean against the counter in the apartment that is a mirror of my own, and flash the eye-rolling Leonard a dubious look. ' _Weirdo_ ,' I mumble, brow pulled together and smile tugging at my mouth. The more I found out about this man, the more I wondered why I liked him so much. _Too much._

Leonard glares at Jim, who is dipping into the Doctor's fridge and grabbing a bottle of water without a care in the world, and replies snappily, 'Stuff'll make your damn teeth _rot_ '.

'Good _God_ ,' I say, a laugh making its way into my tone. Could he _be_ more of a grumpy goose? ' _Live_ a little, Doctor McCoy'.

'I tell him that _everyday_ , June-' Jim drawls, crossing his arms with the water bottle dangling lazily from one hand. His blue eyes flit from the fuming McCoy, to me. 'Trust me, it does _nothing_ -'

Leonard, with his hard jaw and ever rolling eyes, snaps back, 'Don't _you_ two team up against me. I've already got Jo takin' your damn side with every argument, Jim. I may as well be lookin' after the both of you, _Captain_ -'

Jim flips him the finger, I grin, and Joanna McCoy's Southern drawl pipes up with, 'Dad, Jim swore'.

It is ten minutes later that we all find ourselves sitting neatly around the small dining table just off to the sofas and holo, Joanna bickering lightly with her father and Jim riling the little girl up. It was funny to watch, really. And, I guess, it was nice to see the dynamics that were already laid out with these people. Somehow, from what I knew of the two meeting at the Academy, Jim and Leonard had become like family to one another.

I decide halfway through the simple pasta that Leonard had made, that Joanna spoke far more than her father did. As the fifteenth question of the hour is shot my way, I can see Leonard eyeing me and Jim trying his hardest to swallow his smile. I can only imagine that he had faced the same burst of childishly inquisitive questions as I was when he had first met Joanna.

'How old are you?'

I swallow my pasta. ' _I'm_ twenty-four. How old are _you_?'

Joanna, with a quick smile of surprise replies, 'Six. I'll be _seven_ in two months'. I cock a brow in an impressed manner, to which she puffs out her chest, Jim laughs around his mouthful of food, and Leonard eyes the side of his daughters head with a kind of exasperated amusement that only a parent can have. 'Do _you_ have any brothers or sisters? I _always_ wanted-'

'Jo,' Leonard cuts across, in a tone this is calm but firm. 'Eat your dinner and stop pestering June-'

I shrug, smile, and think that I can't let any words said about my life be sad ones. People were going to ask about me, and I needed to answer. 'It's fine _'._ I throw him a look and try and tell him in any way that I can that it _is_ fine. Jim watches the exchange, oddly silent, and Joanna blinks across the small table at me with curious eyes, not knowing about the silent exchange going on between the adults. I smile at her. 'I do. I have a sister called Emily, but we weren't very close. Still, I always had friends who felt more like my siblings. Do you have any friends like that?'

With that, the next ten minutes are taken up by the chattering of a six-year-old talking about her best friends, the games they play, and the drama that happens between them. '-But Lucy is my favourite. She has a cat. _I_ want a cat, but _Mom_ won't let me get one. Dad, have you _asked_ her about having a kitten?'

Leonard, now standing and clearing up the plates, casts a tired look his daughters way. 'Jo, your Ma's _already_ told ya. She's allergic. She can't be in the same house as a _dam_ \- a cat-'

Without blinking, she replies, 'She can sleep outside'.

Jim and I hardly manage to hide our spluttering laughter from the dead serious little girl. Leonard, on the other hand, can only stare helplessly at her as he balances dishes between his hands. Swallowing my smile, I stand and offer my assistance as Jim begins to badger Joanna about school, her favourite subject, and how cats weren't even _that_ great anyway.

I keep my thoughts about that to myself.

'She's _hilarious,'_ I tell Leonard, as he takes my plate and glass from my hands and shoves them into what I can only assume is some modern version of a dishwasher. With a quirk of his brow and a flash of his eyes to mine, I carry on with, 'Honestly. She's _you_. It's bordering terrifying'.

'Thanks, sweetheart'.

I snort. 'You know what I _mean_ '. I peer at him, at the way his back straightens as he knees the dishwasher shut, and the way his head inclines slightly at the laugh Joanna lets out at whatever Jim is saying. It's the slightly distracted twitched of his lips that gets me going. I feel a burst of wanting to say _something._ To see him there, like this, with his daughter and his life in such a relaxed manner, it just made me chest _swell._ 'Thank you for letting me be here,' I murmur, quiet and with a hint of heat to my cheeks. I fiddle with my hands.

His gaze flicks away from Joanna and Jim, and settles onto me. There's something there; something that had been there last night. It makes me ache in the worst of ways, but I...there isn't one part of me that doesn't want to know what it means, but I _can't_. My heart would never mend from what I had lost so far, and now I was finding those I could call friends. But anything more...to let that go...it might kill me at this rate. 'Don't go soft on me now, June'.

I snort, stick my tongue out at him, and answer Joanna's sudden call of, 'June! Jim says you can help me pick a holo-book to read for my homework!' I look over my shoulder and into the open living room, where Jim was leaning back in his dining chair, arms crossed, as Joanna practically edged off of her seat in excitement. 'He says you know _loads_ of old old _old_ fairy-tales-'

I wander over to the girl as she stands, the long dress she is wearing tickling her ankles as she does so, and practically runs toward the sofa, a twin to mine. 'Oh,' I drawl, nodding in a mock-serious manner. She bestows me with an expectant stare as she tackles into a sitting position on the sofa, and Leonard sighs heavily. ' _Tons'._

She slams the sofa cushion next to her with her tiny hands (a sign for me to take a seat, I assume) and yanks her father's PADD from the coffee table. I hardly notice Jim joining Leonard in the kitchen area, nor listen to their low murmurs as Joanna fingers her way through the lists of books that she has to choose from. She sits close to me in that way that only kids can, her bony shoulder pressing into my waist and her small legs tucking awkwardly beneath her.

'I've read _that_ one,' she tells me, pointing to the title of _The Princess and the Pea._ I blink, wrinkle my nose, and throw the little a girl a quick _look_ that makes her blink and smile.

'That one's _boring,'_ I insist, to which Joanna rolls her eyes in a way that reminds me _awfully_ of her father (causing me to swallow a smile) and nods her head enthusiastically. I peer down at the list, my hair falling over my cheeks, and scan the list as the girl thumb her way through. Grimm's Originals. Right. So, the lovely tale of Sleeping Beauty being molested in her sleep by 'Prince Charming' was a no-go...as was the Little Mermaid, wherein she disintegrates into _foam_ \- _'Cinderella,'_ I point, making sure Joanna sees. Sure, the sisters eyes get poked out at the end, but it was Joanna's teachers fault for picking such bloody _gruesome_ tales. Why not go with the happy Disney remakes?

Part of me felt ill at the idea that such things had not made it to this Universe.

I wonder, as Joanna scans the pictures presented before her (old, _old_ illustrations that remind me of my childhood), if Jim and Leonard were talking about the voyage away from Earth. _Five years._ Three years, if I worked my fucking arse off. I would. I _would_. Maria Atwood's sad smile the day before, in the Courtroom, only made my vow to work and become an Engineer aboard the Enterprise that much more real. She had sacrificed it _all_ so that I could be free. A woman who, yes, had done wrong, but who...who _saved_ me.

'-June?' I blink down at the blue-eyed girl, my thoughts snapping away. She tugs at my red hair, curls closer to me, and says, 'You looked funny,' she tells me simply. Her fingers still do not leave my hair. I blink at her, head dipped close to the little girl's, and with an innocence and factual surety of a child, she chimes, 'You've got pretty hair'.

I smile a closed mouthed, pleased smile. 'So do _you_ ,' I reply straightly, prodding the cold end of her nose. She laughs, surprised and pleased. For the first time in days, I feel _normal_. Last night, when I had been surrounded by friends, playing games with Scotty, and standing on the roof with Leonard...it felt natural. Like, somehow, I had slipped into calling this place my home without quite realising it. Perhaps I could do this. Perhaps I could blag my way through life in this future...perhaps I could feign knowledge of this confusing, different world and fool them all into thinking that I belonged here.

Perhaps I really _could_ belong here.

And yet, as Jim escorts me from Leonard's apartment to Medical, with my ears ringing with the sound of Joanna's fevered goodbyes, I can't help but wonder how long such a calm would last. My abilities, however slightly under my control, still terrified me to my core. Sometimes, my thoughts would stray to the Portal, to the blinding power ripping through me, to the bloody eyes of those men...Jim stands by as blood is taken, and the silent, pale Doctor tells me with a stiffness that my full Medical Exam would take place tomorrow, and I nod with worry in my mind. In Leonard's apartment, in the Bar last night...there, I had felt like me.

Here, with clinical eyes and careful hands touching _me_ , the girl no one could know existed apart from a select few...here, I felt like _02_.

Perhaps Jim had sensed by dour mood, because as we walk from corridor to busy corridor in the window strewn building of Starfleet Headquarters, he chatters on and on about the Academy. I listen and push my sour thoughts aside, knowing that whatever he had to tell me would prove to be useful in the future. Soon, I would be thrown in with a group of people who could not and _would_ not know of my circumstances, or why I was so odd. Better to learn how to adapt to my surroundings before I even reached said surroundings.

He drops me at my door with an almost guilty look (they all had lives to live and places to be, whereas I was not yet allowed that luxury), and promises that he will get things moving swiftly for me. 'I'll send over some of my old Academy holos for you, huh? Nothing better than being ahead of the rest before you even start to make the other kids like you'. He winks, takes me snort as a sign of being fine, and turns swiftly on his heel.

My apartment is cold and alone, and I somehow cannot wait to be given a place of my own to decorate. I am beyond grateful for what has been done for me, but sometimes...sometimes the guilt of making a home here is coupled with the desperate wish to go home to my family, my friends, and the world I had spent twenty-four years making for myself.

I pause before making my way toward the holo in the living area, (where, despite it being the late afternoon, I would cuddle down with a PADD of whatever holo-books Jim would send my way, and whatever shitty movies from my time had made it here) my fingers stretching slightly as I push toward a stray glass sitting on the counter. I latch onto that thing that strayed at the back of my head, that power, and _push_.

It takes only a small twinge for the thing to budge slightly to the left.

Maybe things would really start going my way.

* * *

Have you ever been so dreadfully wrong?

I call it The Void. In the times that I had ventured here, I had never truly told the others of this place. Leonard was the only one who might have seen it, in that horrible time where I saw Bates slitting the throats of the Doctor's who worked with him. It was the first time we had shared a bed, and not a cave. Part of me, some primal part that appeared when I fell into this world, seems to sniff out that it's a remnant of the Portal.

My feet smack against the inky black floor, and my breath fogs out in front of me.

And then I see a flash of blue.

It's confusing, at first, because I know that blue. It's the blue of Science, of Medical, of Doctors, of _him._ Momentarily, I am confused. The Void, no matter how little I understood it, had shown me Bates when I needed to know what he was doing, it had shown me Spock and Jim when they needed to know Leonard and I were alive...Then why, now, was it showing me a man who was merely down the hall from where I slept in the conscience world?

Jesus, when did I start talking like I understood this shit?

He crouches on his knees in front of me, and I wonder how I had not seen him before. I walk, and feel this horrible, dark place around me like a familiar, unwanted hug. What was I seeing; what _could_ I be seeing? It is only when I come to stand behind this...whatever it is, that I see their shoulders shaking.

Something uneasy coils inside of me, and for the first time I consider that this person in front of me is not just a fragment of my imagination. '...Leonard?' My voice echoes in the dark, and when the person turns, blue shoulders tensing- I almost sigh when I realise it is really _him._ Only...there is a wetness to his eyes that I had never seen before, a purse to his lips that went beyond his usual frustration, and blood on his hands that makes my stomach crawl.

There, lying in front of him, is a bloody and pale Jim Kirk.

I lurch.

' _June_?'

I look at him, at the terror, at the confusion, at the loss. _This isn't real._ I stumble forward, feet sloshing in the wetness, and grab for him. 'You need to wake up,' I snap, reaching for his warmth. There isn't any, of course. This isn't just the Void - this is confirming what I had suspected for so long, that I had somehow drawn Leonard so close to me with my abilities that sleep had made our consciousness blur. 'This isn't _real-'_

He stares at me, pupils pinpricks and shoulders shaking, and heaves out in a voice I had never heard him use, 'I've seen this _damn_ place before-'

'And it's fucking terrible,' I agree impatiently, fingers drawing up his stubble ridden chin and pulling him to face me more. 'It's horrible and dark and makes terrible things seem more real. So _wake up-'_

'Dammit, _how_?'

The exasperated noise I make as a pull away from him, from the darkness, leaks into real life as I spring away, the cool air of the apartment hitting me, and the credits of _The Goonies_ assuring me that this is not the Void; that I was no longer in the place where my abilities seemed to manifest. I spring to my feet, lurch toward the door, and before I am quite sure what I am doing I am grappling with the key outside of Leonard's apartment and padding quickly across the dimply lit rooms.

When I find his, I see his covers half pulled over his shirtless form, his PADD resting across his chest, and a furrow in his brow that is nothing like the endearing one I know well.

I crouch before him, knees digging into the carpet of the floor, and squint against the low lamp light. 'Leonard,' I murmur, head still spinning from sleep and mind a whirr of still waking up. I move, cautious, and flatten a palm against the hair of his chest. I push - push against him with a wiggle of my mind and a tug at something, I am not sure what, that feels like him. ' _Leonard'._

The beside light flickers, and he wakes with a small gasp. His hazel eyes flutter for a moment, before the ever-grumpy Doctor directs his squinted gaze toward me. ' _Dammit_ ,' he mutters with a low rasp, staring at my rumpled form and sticking a hand quickly through his muss of hair. 'Not a dream, huh?'

I peer at him, smile curling. 'You often dream of little old me, Doctor?'

He glowers, before flicking his gaze over my face and muttering a low, 'The Hell is that place, June?'

I shrug and bite my lip. 'Nothing _terrible_ , I don't think. Somewhere the Portal left behind. Somewhere my abilities come from. I think it's... _in_ me'. He blinks, I sigh. 'I'm sorry I dragged you there, I...I think...' I blush, feeling suddenly fucking stupid for barging into his room, holding his hairy damn chest, and saying what I am about to say. 'I think I kinda did a weird Vulcan thing and-and _pulled_ your mind toward mine-'

His eyelashes flutter, and I realise with burning cheeks that he is raising a hand to touch my cheek; a ringlet of messy red hair falling between his fingertips. There's a roughness to him in sleep that is not there in the daytime, and I lean into it, my fingers arching against his chest. 'When you died,' he mutters, a hesitance to him that I had seen so few times. His fingers curl, the tips dragging along my cheek. I try and shallow out my breathing, and hope to fuck I'm not blowing morning breath (or middle of the night breath?) all over the poor Doctor. 'I _damn_ felt it'.

I breath out and stare. 'Holy _shit_ '. A few seconds pass. 'Is Jo here?'

He shakes his head. 'She left in the evening. Only an hour from here to Georgia by Shuttle'. He pauses, as if knowing what I am offering and asking at the same time. ' _C'mon_ '.

There is no hesitance, not like there used to be. He moves up on the bed, his fingers dragging from my cheek to my shirt and tugging me toward him with a confidence that makes me so thankful it was him, and no one else. I tumble toward him, a mess of sleepy hair and too big comfort clothes, and curl my arms in the space between us.

'I've made you see _horrible_ things,' I murmur, breath ghosting against his chest. A chest, I assure yo, I try very hard not to stare at. Hard, really, considering my eyes were level with it.

'I've seen Jim like that too many times to count, sweetheart. Don't go tellin' him how much I worry, though, huh?' His arm tightens around my waist, drawing my body closer to his, and I shudder out a warm breath and try to think of anything but him and me alone, like this. It's a few seconds before he says anything else. 'Anyways, I...I've got the Enterprise, I've got a damn brilliant _daughter_ , I've got a good job, and I've got my health - Hell, I've even got _Jim..._ If havin' _you_ means steering through the shit heap that got you here for the rest of our lives, then so be it, sweetheart'.

I shift to peer up at him, momentarily fucking _stunned_ by the words. For once, I am utterly speechless. 'Oh,' is all I manage after a solid ten seconds of staring up at the rumpled looking Doctor. He holds tightens more, and shuffle closer to him at the touch. _He'll be gone, soon._ 'Even though I...I left so many people behind, I...I'm so _fucking_ happy I got to meet you all - I got to meet _you_ '.

He stiffens, and I can practically feel his jaw working on top of my head. After a few seconds, I feel a soft kiss land on top of my head, following by a low, 'Sleep, darlin'. Long day tomorrow'.

After a few minutes, I comply, and I work my fucking hardest to make sure he dreams a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **I'M BACK. Okay, so I am so sorry for leaving this for so long. This year has been manic (final year of Uni, woo) but I am getting my funk back. Tell me what you guys think? I hope everyone is groovy and I hope to update soon! Thank you for everyone who has reviewed, by the way! You're all angels oxoxo**


	30. Venus

_Goddess on the mountain top_  
 _Burning like a silver flame_

Venus - Bananarama

* * *

The Nurse stands behind Leonard with what I assume is supposed to be a nonchalant expression, but it's pretty damn obvious that she's side-eyeing me with alarm and curiosity. I wonder, briefly, how many people really know who and _what_ I am. I'd been assured a _billion_ times that the Trial and my arrival into this universe was on a need-to-know basis, but with the way Nurse Blue-Hair was looking at me...

I'd bet my _hands_ she knew.

Another sharp prick makes me wince and blink down at the top of Leonard's dark-haired head. He was bent before me as I sat on the bed in the Med-Bay, his fingers grasping gently at my arm as he prodded away to locate a number of veins. Apparently, one blood sample wasn't efficient. Not since my original one on the Enterprise had shown no signs of genetic modification. On top of that, Leonard had gently told me upon my arrival to Starfleet Headquarters Medical Bay this morning that he would additionally be extracting a small amount of _brain tissue._

 _Lovely_.

Still, at least it meant I had been able to cross the street of San Francisco, from the Shore-Leave building, to the Headquarters. I mean, there had most definitely been men in dark uniforms following Leonard and I, but the fresh air and rare view I had of this new world was _something_. I had feasted on the sights of the people (and aliens) living their everyday lives, the shops, the cars, the bright sky and the air that smelt nothing like a crowded City.

I wondered when I would get used to it. _Probably when I'm allowed free reign to do whatever the fuck I want._

I watch, now that I'm looking at him, as Leonard's careful fingers extract the futuristic syringe from my skin, and blood beads briefly in its wake. I would never get tired of seeing him work like this. It was easy to forget who and what he was, and seeing his furrowed brow, hear him bark orders to others, and feeling his gruff fingers against my skin...Well, let's just say I had a certain amount of appreciation for _Doctor_ Leonard McCoy. He handled me like a sharp sword, not a piece of glass, and had promptly shouted away the Doctors that the Starfleet high-ups had sent to accompany him in the examination.

'Why did you do that?' I had inquired quietly, only half taking in the hulking Med-Bay. It was so different from the one on the Enterprise. Bigger and busier. Leonard had carefully curled a hand around my elbow and pulled me into a separate room.

'Ain't letting those locusts study you like you're a damn _plant'._

I could have kissed him.

'Take this to the Lab,' Leonard gruffs out, handing the vial of my blood to the waiting Nurse. She snaps to attention at his words, her quick nod and shuffle of eye contact telling me all that I needed to know: she was scared of Leonard. Unsurprising, really. I wasn't ever going to forget how little I had liked his attitude the first time I met him. Leonard straightens up, PADD in hand as he scans whatever is on the screen and, as the door is pulled open, he doesn't even face the woman when he says, 'And ensure whoever studies that sample that _I_ am the first one they will contact with the results, Nurse'.

He's especially grumpy today, and I wonder if it is because he is tired. Last night hadn't been easy on either of us, let alone him. I keep quiet as he taps at the PADD, his brow furrowed, and my legs swinging lightly from my perch on the Med-Bed. The room is light and bright, with digital posters on the wall telling of mental health issues and pain thresholds. I study them quickly, my fingers tapping idly at the edge of the bed as my mind wonders. Neither of us had mentioned the happenings of the night before, not even when Leonard had shaken me awake with his hair sticking up funnily and the bags under his eyes more pronounced.

 _When you died,_ he had said. _I felt it._

Pretty damn sure that was _not_ normal.

'Are you reading reports that _you've_ written, or that others have?' I ask, my voice breaking the quiet. He doesn't answer me. No, the infuriating man stands before me, dark Officer uniform sitting well on his form, and continues to scour the words before him with quiet curiosity. His eyebrows twitches, and I frown. 'Well, whatever it says, you don't look _pleased'._

'Ain't nothing about _you_ in these reports,' he replies, low and grumpy and, for fucks sake, was he really angry at me for the night before? Has it dawned upon him that I really was dangerous? Was he regretting letting me meet Joanna-?

I blink and swish my finger lightly, nearly jumping when the PADD wiggles and stumbles from his fingers and lands with a resounding _smack_ on the floor. He stalls. I breathe in. I really had only half expected that to work. He's angry when he looks at me, hazel eyes narrowed and dark brow drawn tight together. 'What in the _hell_ do you think you're doing?'

I don't back down. 'You're being rude,' I point out to him. 'That Nurse looked about ready to wet herself when you _finally_ spoke to her'.

His jaw jumps, and something like a thrill goes through me. Perhaps anger wasn't what I had wanted, but at least he was saying _something_. That and...well...he wasn't half lovely to look at when he was angry and pulled tight like a stretched wire. I wipe my nose to check if any blood had come through, but come back clear. Not enough exertion, I guess. 'You think Starfleet Command will _reward_ you if they see you pullin' shit like that?' He growls, hands dropped to his side and balled into fists.

I stare at him. _Dangerous_. _Dangerous_. _Dangerous_. 'You dropped your PADD,' I inform him lightly. 'Anyone with eyes would have seen that's all that happened'. He scowls. I glare. 'If you're upset about what happened last night, I would rather you say something now'.

His glare is cut off by him ducking to scoop the PADD off of the floor, jaw jumping as he does so. So, he really _was_ wound up. Maybe using by abilities like that hadn't been the best idea...But I guess it was a plus that he truly _wasn't_ scared of them, just scared of others seeing me using them and reporting me. During my isolation whilst Starfleet checked me over, me not using my abilities had been one of the parts of the deal.

When he stands, he turns his back on me. I snort and fiddle with the hem of the black, simple dress I wear. 'I'll take that as a _yes-'_

'Do you realise the _implications_ of what happened last night?' He growls, back still turned, but broad shoulders tensing. I snap my mouth shut. He doesn't turn to face me. 'You stepped inside my damn head like it was _nothin_ '; whilst _asleep_. Even _Vulcan's_ can't do that. You walked around and _spoke_ to me and saw somethin' that's been worryin' me since I met Jim _damn_ Kirk. Y'know how much somethin' like that could scare some of the assholes up high in Starfleet; scare them into makin' sure you're locked up tightly? You know what kind of _assholes_ would use something - use _you_ \- so _that_ kind of power could be handled for their benefit-?'

'But I don't know how to _do_ that to anyone else,' I tell him, factual and without thinking and with far too much stupidity in my tone. 'It gravitated to you because-' I swallow my words and stumble out with, 'Well, because you're _you'._

I don't want to voice what would happen to anyone who tried to control me like that. I don't tell him how easy it could be, once threatened, for my abilities to hurt whoever tried to hurt me. I don't tell him that panic and hurt and the urge to protect is what makes me abilities something beyond powerful.

He turns just slightly. 'I'm not gonna to tell them,' he says quietly. 'Jim, Spock - _Starfleet_. I'm not going to damn well tell them, and it's the first _damn_ time I've kept somethin' this big from my _Captain_ -'

I'm standing the moment the words leave his mouth, only now understanding his bad mood. He was under an obligation to tell those above him what I was capable of; _of course._ In doing so, though, he could endanger my future and the decision that Starfleet had made regarding my admission to Starfleet Academy, and the training they would attempt to give me to ensure I could one day control these abilities properly. In the end, Leonard McCoy had chosen me. 'Shit,' I say, very helpfully. ' _Shit_. But I can't...I can't even _do_ that to anyone else. It's because...because-'

 _Because my abilities are part of my mind, and my mind is entirely in love with you._

'You _can't_ do that for me-'

He turns, now, all furrowed brow and annoyance cast across his rough features. 'In a few damn days, I'll be _gone_. You think I can go knowin' that Starfleet could just screw the agreement they made with you - that some other crazy fuckin' Scientist could come along and tinker with you like you're not _you._ You think I don't know that you've got control over this? I damn _do,_ June, but humans are scared of what they don't understand, and they sure as shit will not understand the fact that you waltzed into my head like it was _nothing_ -'

 _It wasn't nothing_ , I want to tell him. _Your mind welcomed mind like I was an old friend._

'I'm sorry,' I breathe, truly and horribly so. He releases a deep breath, watching me with a flickering gaze. For once, he doesn't reply. 'There's no way there's anyone but you I could do that to. You've been there since...since I started to realise the _shit_ I could do. I'm sorry I _did_ it. I'm sorry my stupid emotions made me step inside your head like I was welcome there. I'm sorry I've put you in this terrible, shit-show of a situation where you have to lie Jim...I just need you to know that you need to _stop worrying._ I've _got_ this. No one else will see me so relaxed with these bloody abilities, because no one else is _you'._

I think it's the closest I've ever come to telling him how I feel. The Doctor side-eyes me, jaw working and chest jumping. 'You're startin' to understand it,' he remarks quietly, Southern drawl making his words low and quiet. There's a realisation in his voice; something like wonder and acceptance.

'Slowly,' I shrug. 'It reacts with me and what I feel and want. It's just a matter of understanding those things and controlling it'. We both know that there are, of course, certain situations in which such a thing would be impossible. Imposing death and terror had showed exactly what my abilities could do. 'I'm not going to stop practising, no matter how much Starfleet doesn't like it'.

His mouth curls. 'I figured. Just...be careful, will ya?'

I tilt my head and smile. 'Always, Leonard'.

* * *

As it turns out, an in depth psych evaluation was not needed, as Jommin had sent over her overview of me to Starfleet and Jim. I learn this after my medical exam with Leonard is finished, and my head his aching just slightly from the small device he had lined with the top of my head and extracted fucking _brain tissue_ from me, like it was nothing.

The future was _weird_.

Leonard and mines conversation seems to sit heavily between us as he escorts me back to the Shore-Leave Building. I feel awful that I've put him in such a horrible situation, but I'm marginally affronted and annoyed that he will not stop his worrying. The men with the dark uniforms scatter around us within the crowd as we walk across the road, and I wonder what they're even doing. Do they think I'm going to run? Do they think I'm suddenly going to lose my shit and kill everyone in the damn City? It was troubling, how little they seemed to trust me.

That was something I would work on over the next few years, I suppose.

When we arrive at the building, Jim is waiting in the foyer with his hands clasped behind his back, and his worried gaze launching from myself to Leonard. He offers no explanation, other than one quick sentence. 'Lee's in the Meeting Room on the sixteenth floor. She wants to see you. She wants to...see what you can do'.

* * *

I like Lee. I'm pretty sure she likes me, too. It's why, as Leonard and Jim escort me to a floor way above the ones where the crew quarters are, I feel far less nervous than I did upon initially meeting the woman. Jim doesn't comment on the quiet between Leonard and I, nor the Doctor's grumpy exterior, and instead informs me that various forms of I.D were being made to ensure my identity would not be put into question.

'June Ramona Adams. Born October 13th, 2236. Orphaned at birth. Parentage unknown. Schooled in London, England in Engineering and attended the University of Oxford in Biomedical Engineering, and accepted to Starfleet Academy in 2260'. Jim waves his hand and shrugs. 'There are a few things that need sweeping under the rug, but it's legit. As of tomorrow morning, you will officially exist'.

'If this had been _not_ existing,' I reply. 'I dread to think what comes next'.

Jim snorts.

Lee is sitting at a long, shiny table that looks like it's been polished about a million times over. She stands when we walk in, and smiles kindly and like the last thing she wants to do is make me feel uncomfortable. She's wearing the same uniform as before, but the lines on her face are far more relaxed than they had been at the Trial. When she shakes my hand, she makes sure to meet my gaze solidly. 'Thank you so much for agreeing to meet me, Miss Adams'.

The room has a long window that takes up the entirety of the left wall, and I wonder if she picked this room on purpose. It did make me feel far less trapped. 'Call me June,' I shrug.

'Very well. June'. Lee looks to the men who stand behind me, now. She smiles at Kirk, and then at Leonard. 'Captain, Chief Medical Officer. Captain Kirk, I have heard from Commander Scott that the Enterprise is well under way to be ready to leave in three days time. I am sure you are eager to get back to the stars'. The idea makes me momentarily breathless, and I am glad the focus is no longer on me. What kind of rest had this been for Leonard, worrying about me the whole time?

'Affirmative, Admiral. I am...eager to return to our five-year mission, but not before ensuring _this_ one is left in the best of hands'. I throw him a withering look over my shoulder, to the which the Captain hardly looks my way. Leonard, on the other hand, is staring so hard at the wall above Lee's head, that it's a wonder he hasn't burnt a hole through it.

'Of course, Captain. Now...June. You understand why I have asked you here?' I nod, and she inclines her head. 'Good. I am well aware that you have told us extensively of your abilities, but I wish to know more. You are, as I am sure you are aware, extremely powerful...a step in humankind, some might say-'

I realise that cutting off an Admiral is something that would make Mister Spock have an aneurysm, but I do so anyway. 'Then they're idiots,' I tell her, palms sweaty and voice cracking. 'This isn't _evolution_. Anyone who aspires to make more like me should be _locked up_ -'

I have a feeling I have said exactly what the Admiral wants me to. 'Why is that?' she urges me, dark brow cocking. There is a calmness that seems to exude from Lee; something which makes you want to keep talking. I trust this woman, I find, and I am more than thankful that she seems to trust me.

'Because you guys are lucky I _want_ to control it and learn from it. It's an extension of me, now, and I've come to terms with that. _Anyone_ could have fallen through that Portal, and it's damn good it wasn't _Donald Trump_ or someone-'

Lee frowns. 'Who?'

'Jesus,' I breathe. 'My Universe _certainly_ got the shitty end of the stick'.

Lee does not miss a beat. 'There are those amongst my ranks who would not condone you practising your abilities whilst in holding, as you are. To be frank, I do not agree with these people. You have saved more lives than you have taken with what you can do, and I see it as a gift that someone with such bravery and moral compass wishes to put forward their hard-work and usefulness to Starfleet and the Federation. It is for that reason I wish to understand what you can do _now._ It is better to be prepared, and though there are certain candidates of whom we believe would be suitable to aid you in controlling and discovering your abilities, I want to see them now. As you said, they are an extension of yourself'.

I don't quite know what to say to that, so I end up making a funny choking sound.

'Captain, Doctor. You may leave if you wish-'

'No, thank you, Admiral'.

'Stayin' right here if you don't mind, Ma'am'.

I swallow my smile.

The Admiral bows her head and sends me a meaningful look, before taking three steps back and imploring Leonard and Jim to do the same. The nervousness sets in, then. 'I only want to see a what it is you have done before, June,' Lee implores. 'Do not exert yourself'.

I won't be showing everything though, will I? I won't show her how, _somehow_ , I can dip into Leonard's head in my fucking _sleep_. I won't be telling her how he had _felt_ me die. I won't be showing her how _easy_ it had been to make those men choke on their own blood. No, Lee wants the clean version. She wants to see the movements that my abilities can cause. I nod, stomach flipping. 'Right,' I reply. 'Okay'.

'Miss Adams has had an extensive medical exam today,' Leonard cuts in, suddenly and gruffly. I practically hear Jim roll his eyes behind me. 'She-'

'As I said,' Lee smiles. 'Do not push yourself too hard, June'.

I nod, breathe, and _think._ It's always there, hanging at the back of my mind. That's why it had become so much easier to do things like flip the PADD out of Leonard's hands, and move a glass with my mind. I had a feeling that wasn't all Lee wanted, though, and to know she trusted me to not blow out the glass windows made me want to prove my control to her even more. I could be good; I could be _great._ I just had to _show_ them this.

It's like adrenaline, when it does begin to tingle through me. It's like what I imagine superheroes must feel like in movies, except this isn't a movie. This is real life.

I welcome it from the back to the front of my mind, eyes fluttering closed and fingers loose at my sides. They are quiet, all around me, and I wonder if they're scared at all. Does any one of them think I will snap and do something wrong-?

 _Leonard is here. He doesn't think that._

When I open my eyes, the bright lights flicker. When I breathe in sharply, the skirts of my dress flutter around my knees. When I curl my fingers against my palms, the long table and eighteen chairs that surround it lift suddenly and quickly four inches from the ground. They stop sharply, and my fingers feel as if they are tethered to them by string.

The blood beads at my nose.

'Make them stay there for five more seconds,' Lee commands suddenly and quietly, her head slightly turned and her calm gaze shifting over the still objects that float above the ground.

My head begins to throb.

'Admiral,' Leonard growls, and I think I hear Jim shush him.

 _...three, two, **one**._

They drop with a clatter and a skidding of metal against the floor, and I am caught from falling backwards by Jim's hand on the crook of my elbow. I should be used to this feeling of throbbing tiredness that comes after, but I'm not. It's the _pits._ Still, I want to fucking _dance._ I had done what she asked, right up up the exact second. _She can see I have control over it._

Lee looks at me with an expression of relief. 'Beautifully done, June. I am so very pleased you did that so well. It will make it so much easier to fight your corner'.

I manage a garbled, 'Sure thing, Admiral'.

 _Hey, at least I can't taste blood this time. That's a plus._

Leonard is on me in a second, his fingers latching onto my jaw as he turns me toward him, and his furrowed brow drawing me to his gaze. He is eyeing the blood gathering at my nose, no doubt. 'I would like to take my patient to her quarters to rest, Admiral,' he says, without even looking her way. He flattens his hand against my forehead, mouth pulled tight into a frown.

'I agree,' Jim confirms. He sounds relieved. 'Thank you for doing this, Admiral Lee. You word will mean everything in what comes next'.

I garble something her way, but the throbbing in my head and the connection between my brain and mouth do not seem to be working. Whilst what came after using my abilities was far better than it had been before, it wasn't entirely great. I still felt like I had a terrible, vodka-induced hangover. She bids us farewell with some meaningful words my way that I cannot bother to listen to, before promising something along the lines of continuing to see me and overseeing my placement at the Academy.

Once we are on the other side of the doors, Leonard practically explodes.

'That is _not_ something someone should be doing after a day of _invasive_ medical exams, Jim!' His arm is curled around my back as I walk between the two, my hands wiping furiously at the blood at my nostril. This floor is empty, thank God. Jim grumbles something back to Leonard, to which the Doctor replies, 'I don't give a damn if it ended well for June, Jim! She's obviously _exhausted_ now-'

'I didn't know that was going to happen-!'

Leonard actually _growls_.

'You know, I am _right here_ , and I'm happy I did it'. Jim casts me a sideways glance as we get into the elevator, his eyes shining with amusement. Leonard merely tugs me a little too roughly forward. ' _And_ ,' I stress, facing the grumpy Doctor. 'I have Lee on my side. Maybe they'll stop seeing me as a fucking _atomic bomb_ , now-'

'Jesus, you're old,' Jim grumbles. ' _Atomic bomb'_.

'Fuck _all_ the way off-'

'Children,' Leonard hisses. 'You're both _children_ '.

* * *

'Three days,' is the first thing I say, when Leonard sneaks into my apartment ten minutes after he and Jim had departed for theirs. It's early evening, now, and the pink sky filters into my quarters. 'Three days, and then it's _three years'._ I'm tired and I ache, and the time limit is making skin itch in a way that I am sure will keep me up at night. 'I need you to stop being angry with me,' I tell him.

He doesn't attempt to look abashed. Instead, he crosses his arms over the loose beige shirt that he has changed into, and assesses me with a level gaze. He looks handsome like this, I decide. He looks relaxed and somehow smaller without his uniform on. I make a mental note to remember him like this, with the pink sky reflecting in his hazel eyes. 'You have _no idea_ what these abilities are doing to you'.

We stand before each other, in front of the door, and I curl my mouth at him. 'If any damage had been done so far, you would have found it today. It exhausts me. That's _it_ '.

'You've _died'._

'So have a lot of people'.

His eyes roll sky-high. 'You're not like a lot of _damn_ people, June!'

I flinch, only slightly, and glare up at him. 'Don't _shout'._ He has the grace to look put-out, to which I step forward and touch his arm, fingers grazing over the hair there. 'It doesn't want to hurt me. It _is_ me. I...I pushed myself too far when I closed the Portal; I'll _never_ have to do that again. Can't you...can't you stop bloody seeing it as this horrible, ugly thing that's inside of me? What happened to me was terrible, but this...this could be _good,_ as long as it never happens to anyone else-'

I think of _One_.

He looks as if he might laugh, but there is a bitterness there. The sky pinkens more, and it casts colours across the whiteness of the kitchen and living room, and across his weathered cheeks. 'You're damn stupid sometimes, ya know that?' He grumbles, arms uncrossing and brow furrowing in that way of his. I pull an affronted expression. 'Ain't _any_ damn part of you that's _horrible_ or _ugly_ , June. You think I don't want to drop to my damn knees every time you make somethin' move with your mind, or when a damn bulb flickers around you like you're damn Holy? You're a _Goddess_ , you stupid woman, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna worry about you'.

I'm not sure when his hand sneaked to my waist, but I shiver just a little when I feel large fingers brush against the fabric of my dark dress. _You're a damn Goddess._ He can't possibly think of me like that, and yet the truth is in his eyes. I feel, suddenly, embarrassed. 'You have such a way with words,' I mumble, staring up at him like he's the moon and I'm the stars and, inevitably, we'll hang in the same sky together.

The fingers become a palm flat against my waist, and my hands linger against the fabric of his shirt. He's warm beneath my fingers. His head dips deeper, and I curse myself for being so damn short. 'You're some kind of deity sent to make this _old man_ realise there's still good in this damn world'.

The lights flicker. His mouth tugs into a smirk. I curse my abilities at times like this.

'You're not _old_ ,' I snap, fingers lurching to grasp as his shirt. He is hard and solid beneath my fingers, and my cheeks warm at the knowledge that we are so close, so alone, and being so very honest with one another. 'And I'm not _any_ of those things. I'm an idiot who got drunk and fell into a Portal through time, into a world where apparently everyone is some _supermodel-genius-hybrid-'_

He snorts. I smile. The words bubble in my throat the closer our heads draw together, the more his breath ghosts against the warm of my cheeks. He is so wonderfully beautiful, I realise. So perfectly _perfect_ for me. His fingers draw tighter against me, and his lips are so close I can almost guess what he will taste like. 'I'll wait for you,' I say factually, quietly, because, really, it's _true_.

For just one second, his gaze softens, his mouth parts, and his chest stills.

And then everything seems to crumble at those words.

He stiffens beneath my fingers, and the hands at my waist drop away like I had burnt him. For a second, I panic and wonder if I had lost control somehow, but how? I hadn't felt it - I was-

Had I read everything so entirely wrong?

And then Leonard draws away from me, jaw set and eyes a fraction too wide, and suddenly I know what he's doing. I know what he is thinking. He is _running_. His words ring in my ears. _Old man._ His fingers skid away from my dress, and the clench of his jaw and the drop of his eyes tells me everything I need to know. I am cold where he has left me, and I don't attempt to reply to his, 'Sleep, June,' as he steps solidly back into the door, and turns on his heel the moment it opens.

I gape at the door, stomach cold and mind black.

The anger comes quickly.

I stand, empty handed and red-faced, the rejection sitting painfully in my stomach. I worry for a brief moment if the anger and upset I feel will make the whole building quake, but it only results in one angry and embarrassed tear and a swift throw of my arm to make an innocent glass skid across the counter top and clang loudly against the coffeemaker.

If I did not know Leonard so well, I would think him a _coward_.

 _Old man._

No, he's not a coward. He's an _idiot_. An idiot who thinks he's doing me a favour by not pressing his lips to mine and stopping this ridiculous dance that is so tiring between us. An idiot who has a point. Three years is a long time, and though I will wait for him, I can't be sure that I can ask him to do the same. I swallow tightly and lock the door with a flick of my fingers.

I won't be angry at him, I decide. I'll be patient. Just as he had been so often for me.

* * *

 **HELLO HELLO HELLO. So that was a long arse chapter, but I want to get the basics in before the Enterprise lot go on their merry way and we come to June attending the Academy. I've had many questions asking if there will be time skips in this time, and there most definitely will. We'll get the basics from her experience at the Academy, with a few twists and turns, of course.**

 **Also, hero complex Leonard who thinks he's saving June from his old and grumpy ways. Sigh.**

 **Thank you to those who had reviewed, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	31. She's Always A Woman

_She is frequently kind_  
 _And she's suddenly cruel_  
 _She can do as she pleases_  
 _She's nobody's fool_  
 _But she can't be convicted_  
 _She's earned her degree_  
 _And the most she will do_  
 _Is throw shadows at you_  
 _But she's always a woman to me_

She's Always A Woman - Billy Joel

* * *

'As your Captain, I can't really have an opinion on you nearly kissing your patient, _Doctor_ McCoy. As your friend who can have an opinion on your _screwing_ it up, I think you're an _idiot_ '.

Leonard takes the insult. After all, he's had far worse words thrown at him over the years. Being a Doctor (and often inflicting discomfort on others) made it that so that many insults had been thrown his way, in so many alien languages, that he had become partly immune to others biting words. From Jim, though, he knows the words are only meant to help him, in the Captain's not-so subtle way.

'She said she'd damn _wait for me,_ Jim'. Her words ring in his hears, only a few hours old. It was selfish, how much he realised he had yearned for the words the moment they were spoken. She was nine years his junior, a young, beautiful, intelligent woman on the cusp of discovering exactly what this world could hold for her. Leonard wasn't an idiot. He had seen in her eyes so many times the wonder and excitement that would come with talking of her future. 'I'm nearly ten damn years older than her. D'you think I can _ask_ her to do that?'

Jim nurses the amber drink in front of him, a thick eyebrow cocked and a rue smile making its way onto his face. Leonard hated it when Jim looked at him like that; like Leonard was a damn _child_. They're sitting in Jim's quarters, a low tune playing on the music player, and the City lights blinking from beyond Jim's window. 'Bones,' Jim sighs, all rolling eyes and pursed lips. 'You're not _asking_ her. That's the _point_ '.

Leonard growls and chugs back a large sip of his bourbon; so large that it nearly makes his eyes water. When he looks back at Jim, over the kitchen counter that they both leaned against, he scowls. 'I'm a damn divorcee with a _kid_ \- you think June's really gonna stick to what she _thinks_ she feels right now? She's _young._ She's got her whole damn future ahead of her, and I'll bet my Doctorate that by the time she boards the Enterprise in three years time, she'll have realised that she's better off without this _old man_ -'

' _Christ_ ,' Jim mutters, his eye-roll heavier this time. 'Would you like a violin, Doctor? And, c'mon, you really think _June Adams_ doesn't know exactly what she wants?' Leonard scowls. 'Y'know, there's a bet going on between Chekov and Scotty to see which one of you two will finally step forward first and admit how you feel. I guess Scotty won'. Leonard continues to scowl. Jim sighs. 'Look, Bones. I think we can both vouch that June is _not_ an idiot. A little brash and lacking in tact, sure, but an idiot that woman is _not_. You have three, now _two_ days left with her. D'you really want to spend those days pretending like you don't think the sun shines out of her-'

'Two days and then it's _three years_ , Jim! I can't and damn _won't_ let that woman think I'm even _slightly_ deservin' of her!' Jim has the tact to snap his mouth closed at that, the lines of his face softening somewhat as he considers his friends words. 'This is against _rules._ She is my _patient_ -'

Jim cuts in with, 'Her Medical Exams are _done._ Next excuse?'

Leonard can feel the anger annoyance gnawing at his gut. He is well aware he has a temper, it's something that he got from his old Dad. But the way Jim is just...brushing it all under the rug what his so important...it's making his damn blood boil. 'You know damn well that if Starfleet found out the true nature of mine and June's relationship, there would be an inquiry. You know _damn_ well that she's only just beginning in this world, and to be with her would be to hinder her from explorin' _any_ other possibilities there might be out there. Three damn years, Jim! If-' He purses his lips and takes a sudden, quick chug of his drink. It burns his throat and settles heavily in his stomach. 'I know exactly where I stand with her, but if she changes her mind in those three years, when I'm _gone_ -'

The words are left unsaid, by the ring unspoken in his mind. _I don't think I can take that kind of heartbreak again._

Jim is quiet for only a moment. He watches Leonard with bright blue eyes and a keen understanding of his friend, before he finally speaks, his tone more level. 'You know why Scotty thought June would be the first one to _finally_ put an end to the embarrassingly obvious dance you two are in together?'

Leonard bows his head, face drawn into a grumpy scowl, and fiddles with his drink when he replies. 'Might I remind you that my relationship ain't a damn topic of conversation for every member of the Alpha crew, Jim?'

Jim scoffs. 'Like you don't _gossip_ with the Nurses, Bones. _Anyway_. Chekov said it would be you, because you'd be _stupid_ to let go a chance of someone like _June,_ a living embodiment of the past, and a woman straight outta some tacky 1980's Sci-Fi movie...and Scotty'. Jim withdraw from his lean and balances his drink in his hands, his smile boarding on smug. 'Scotty, on the other hand, chose June. Bet his vintage Scotch on it, Bones. His _Scotch_. Apparently, when June first arrived with us, the lights on the ship would flicker all the time. Drove him mad. I guess we know why now though, huh? Weird how she can do that...Anyway...according to our Chief Engineer, every time you're anywhere near our June Adams, those lights flicker just a tiny, tiny amount. Only enough for him to notice, because he was practically _obsessed_ with it when it first started happening on the Enterprise, but-'

He tries to squash the beating of his heart and the image of June Adams bathed in a flickering light with her wide smile directed up at him, but he really can't. He tries to not think about her, right now, alone in her quarters, rejected and, knowing her, angry. He tries not to think about how selfishly wonderful it would be to know that she would be waiting for him here, on Earth, ready to join him in the hell-hole that was space in just a few years. He tries not to think about how horrible it had ended with Joce, and terrified he was that he could end up hating June like that.

Jim doesn't seem at all surprised when Leonard downs his drink in one and straightens up with a stiff, 'I'm going to _bed_ , Jim'.

* * *

Leonard knows that he doesn't really _hate_ Spock. He just thinks that the green-blooded hobgoblin is an annoying attribute to his everyday life, no matter how much he respects and, deep, _deep_ down, appreciates the Vulcan.

'It would appear you are in a dourer mood than usual, Doctor,' the Vulcan muses, shoulder to shoulder with Leonard and with his gaze cast solely on where the Enterprise was docked. They were in the Starfleet building beside the Shuttle Bay, meeting briefly with most of the Alpha crew so that Jim could ensure that everyone was ready to disembark at 0600 hours in exactly forty-eight hours.

Not that Leonard was counting the hours, or anything.

Leonard throws Spock a look that he often seems to direct the Vulcan's way, and replies with, 'Comin' from you, Spock, that says a lot'. He doesn't wait for the First Officer to reply, instead stepping further toward the large bay window and eyeing the sparks that flew from where small changes were being made to the Enterprise. Despite only being in space for a short amount of time since last leaving Earth, Mister Scott always seemed to find _some_ kind of tinkering to do.

 _Engineers_. They never knew when to leave something well enough _alone_.

A certain one came to mind.

It's early - just about 0700 hours - and Leonard is sure his bloodstream must be 80% coffee at this rate. He'd hardly slept the night before, for reasons _entirely_ involving his conversation with Jim and his worry over meeting the stale annoyance of June at some point today, and had spent most of the night pouring over supply lists and any existing patient cases from before their docking on Earth. There were few, as it goes. Leonard merely had to follow up with Ensign Jeffords about a small bit of skin irritation she'd had, and remind Lieutenant Giotto to remind _his_ Ensign's that they couldn't avoid their Physical Exams forever.

The meeting of much of the Alpha crew had others stating the same. Jim had looked bordering bored, but such things before disembarking were protocol. There had been no issues in preparing the Enterprise to report, simply because the ship had been loaded and prepared for a five-year mission, of which had been cut drastically short.

 _Sadly_ , the Doctor thinks wryly, thinking of how pointless this short trip to the Shuttle Bay had been. He could be doing far better things with his time, such as contacting Joanne whilst he could still tell her he was on the same planet as her, or appreciating the fresh air of Earth, over the artificial recycled _crap_ of space.

With one last look at the Enterprise, Leonard turns away and filters back into the Officers and Commanders that littered the building, the crew of the Enterprise finding themselves gravitating toward one another naturally. In all fairness, Leonard's crew-mates and friends had already been grouped together; it was he who had stormed off momentarily to brush away the annoyance that seemed of be creeping at the back of his mind.

He was in a terrible mood this morning, and he knew it. Whilst most of the crew seemed to think that their CMO enjoyed blowing up at every second, Leonard really, honestly did try to avoid anyone who _might_ annoy him when he was in a mood like this.

Jim turns his way, mid-conversation with Spock, and Leonard makes sure to duck to speak quietly with Sulu about the oskoid plant, and how the warming capabilities of the plant could be useful in medicine. They ascend the steps quickly of the building, and make it just in time for a shuttle train. It's quiet, as usual, and many of the civilians on the train eye the Starfleet employees with a type of wonderment that Leonard wants to roll his eyes at. He's glad for Hikaru's quiet, low tone as he lists the properties of various plants used in healing, an updated conversation of the one they've had many times, and Leonard feels the tension in his shoulders die somewhat.

He then sees Pavel Chekov speaking with a young, dark skinned girl who Leonard had seen once after she received a bad phaser burn, and his thoughts return to the sole purpose of his short mood and upset. The shuttle stills in front of the Federation Building, and as everyone disembarks, Leonard with them, the Doctor cannot help but think bitterly that someone like Ensign Chekov would be more suited to June. Young, talented, and without the baggage of a nasty divorce, and without the request of accepting not only himself, but a child.

Leonard knew that was an unfair thing to think. June had been nothing but accepting and adoring of Jo. Leonard knew this, because he had watched the two interact with a keen eye and a warmth in his chest as he watched Jo shine in front of June.

As he crosses into the plaza outside of the Shore-Leave building, Hikaru now silently walking beside him, Leonard thinks of June. He thinks of how unfair it had been for him to speak to her how he did yesterday, with words on his tongue that would have made Jim roll his eyes and call him a sap. He knows Jim would be right. He never thought he would find himself reciting damn _sonnets_ to anyone ever again, not after Joce.

Yet, his words had rung true. June Adams was a _Goddess._ A vertically challenged Goddess, with eyes the colour of moss and hair as blinding as her personality. Beauty was never something Leonard had troubled himself over, and he is quite certain that June Adams could be damn _Vulcan_ and he would still find her a damn gift to his existence. He wonders if he will ever tire of hearing her snorting laugh, or snore, or trip over herself in one way or another, and he's quite sure the answer is no.

They are only halfway into the building when Jim pulls his PADD from his pocket, the moment Chekov, Sulu and Scotty begin to head for the bar, and proclaims, without really thinking, 'Bones. They have June in Medical'. For the first time that morning, Leonard looks his Captain and best friend dead in the eye, and sees the slight regret on Jim's face. Apparently, the Captain was wishing he hadn't regurgitated the words he had seen on the screen quite so quickly.

As it turns out, Leonard's short bark of annoyance and, 'Damn well _knew_ they couldn't leave her well enough alone!' before he storms off has Nyota Uhura sending Jim a hard stare that says, _tactful, Captain._

 _Shoulda damn well known they'd pounce on her the moment I wasn't there. I'll give those damn bastards a hiding, if she hasn't already._

He had said, many a damn time, that no one would be examining June unless he was present. Perhaps, yes, that was him going overboard, but Leonard didn't _care_ , dammit. He'd heard well enough of Scientists poking and prodding at June, and he wasn't going to let anyone but those under his watch and those he _trusted_ to study her unique brainwaves (because, yes, that was something he had picked up on) and treat her like _02,_ the damn name that crackpot Bates had etched onto her skin.

He knew how much the mark bothered her. He had seen her rub roughly at her skin there when she thought no one was looking. Sometimes, Leonard wondered if she even realised she was doing it.

He knows they won't have dragged her over to Headquarters for this. No, discretion was one of Starfleet's finest qualities when they wanted, and Leonard bet anything they'd taken her to the small Med-Bay on the seventeenth floor.

He's damn tired of _morons_ snooping where their snouts aren't wanted.

He hears her before he sees her, and had his mood not been so terrible, the Doctor might have smiled. The sixteenth floor is busier than many of the higher floors, with a few Nurses littering the hallways and a few Cadets standing by the Science Station at the entrance to the Med-Bay. Upon seeing the thunderous expression of Leonard McCoy, many of these individuals scatter.

'For the _millionth time,_ Doctor McCoy has assured me that I am up to date and finished with any more tests until my results come through. So no, _sir_ , I will not let you _stab_ me with _that_ -'

June Adams did not have the same British lilt that Carol Marcus had, but a tilting accent that became only more pronounced when angry.

She is wearing a simple dress, yet again, and this one a dark red that reaches her knees. Leonard quietly enjoys this change in her style. Her hair is a mess of a ponytail, and her hands are planted solidly on her hips. Before her stands a Doctor Leonard does not recognise, and that damn Admiral Akatchi. Both men glower at her with an expression on contempt and impatience, and Leonard wants to damn yell when he sees a simple hypo balanced in the nameless Doctors hands. So, they _had_ been meaning to take blood again. This wasn't a _genuine_ need for a Medical Exam, this was Starfleet being scared of what they had accidentally created, and a select few attempting to wield power over her.

Damned _fools_.

His heavy and angry footsteps draw the attention of first the Admiral, and then the Doctor, and then her. She is all angry flushed cheeks and bright eyes when she turns to see him. Perhaps it is only because Leonard is _truly_ paying attention, but his heart feels heavy when her eyelashes flutter in surprise and, barely noticeable unless you were truly looking, the lone thin light of the ceiling above her flickers just once.

He swallows the lump in his throat and grounds out to the Admiral, 'Admiral, if you'll excuse me, is there any damn reason you've taken Miss Adams from her quarters, when she has been assured time over than her Medical Examinations are now finished?' He reaches her side in an instant, gaze never truly meeting hers. He assesses the annoyed Admiral. 'Sir?'

Finally, the man speaks. 'Precautions, Chief Medical Officer-'

'Or a disbelief in my own competence as a Physician?' He's angry and, really, he shouldn't be speaking to his superior like this, but he truly doesn't care. People like Akatchi need to be put in their place, sometimes. Beside him, June shifts and looks to the Admiral, and Leonard can practically sense her smirk. 'Believe me, you lot'll be the first to know when the results come through. Until then, Miss Adams has been given leave to _rest._ As her Physician, I only implore you to leave her _damn well alone_ '.

As he pulls June by the elbow and marches straight out the way he came, Leonard can only imagine what kind of _strong words_ the Admiral would be having with Jim about him.

He lets June go only when she yanks her arm from his grasp and snaps something at him, something that he is hardly listening to, because all he can see is a repeat of her fluttering eyes and the quick dance of the lights above her. He is grinding his teeth, the battle inside him waging, and his fists clenching at his side-

'Are you going to Terminator-walk out of here, or are you actually going to talk to me?' June snaps, walking briskly by his side. She is glancing up at him, bags under her eyes and an angry flush to her cheeks, and Leonard tares his gaze away from her before he does something he regrets. The elevator is just in front of them, a place where he can angrily snap and growl about the idiocy of some Starfleet Admirals. 'I suppose I should say thank-you, anyway. They were _never_ going to listen to me. I think that arse-hole thinks I really enjoyed all the shit that happened to me-'

The elevator doors slide open, and the moment they do Leonard steps into the small space, bathed in light, and finally looks June in the eye as she follows suite. Her words die quickly in her throat when she looks at him, really looks at him, and Leonard has a sneaking suspicion that she knows precisely what he is going to do before the thought has even registered fully in his mind.

He faces her, chest heaving and jaw tight, and June looks up at him with a quiet apprehension and a twist to her mouth that is like a smile of realisation. Her breath hitches just slightly when his foot slides forward, and Leonard wants to thank Jim over and over for allowing him to notice how, when June looks at him like this, all twisted corners of her mouth and fluttering green eyes, a light somewhere in the room will flicker. He hopes he will remember her like that forever, with the harsh, artificial lights of the elevator buzzing a triple flicker above their heads.

And, dammit, _he_ did that.

When the doors slide closed and June mutters, 'Go on, then', Leonard McCoy decides to be selfish and spontaneous, and throw all damn worries to the wind because, damming hell, how could he resist her when she looked like a fire just waiting to be touched? When he might regret not doing this, right now, for the next three years? Who is he to deny her what she wants?

He kisses her with no ounce of self-restraint or fragility, because in what world would that be what either of them wanted? No, he kisses her with a curl of his hand around the back of her neck, and her fingers digging near painfully into the blue of his uniform. He kisses her like she deserves to be kissed, and he puts everything he can into feeling every inch he can in that moment, from a sweep of his thumb across her cheekbones, to a hand falling steadily to her waist.

Leonard McCoy is quite sure he will always at least _try_ to remember the way her nose pressed against his, and how her lips tasted just slightly of strong coffee. He is _additionally_ sure that he has made both greatest and gravest mistakes of his life, because there is no going back from _this_. He will never _not_ want to feel her against him like this, all soft skin stepping closer to his, and tongue peeking just slightly forward as he pulls at her hair, tilting her head back-

It is June who pulls away first, eyes shining and mouth splitting into a grin the moment the doors swoosh open. There is no one standing on the other side, thank the Lord, but Leonard straightens up and steps away all the same, his mind thrumming and his smirk sliding across his features regardless. Dammit, he's _happy_. For now damn to the consequences and the worries he will have. For now, he wants to feast on the sight of what June Adams looks like after kissing Leonard McCoy.

'Would you like to come to my quarters for a coffee?' June blurts out, suddenly and loudly.

Leonard stares at her, and Starfleet personnel flock beyond the elevator doors in bursts and loudness. June cringes at her own words and the way they had come out, before shrugging helplessly at his surprised snort, and grins when Leonard replies, 'Sounds a dream, sweetheart'.

'Thank fuck,' she says. 'It would have been very awkward if you'd said no'.

* * *

 **Shorter chapter but, woo, they kissed! I mean, right when they're about to not see each other for three years, but you know...**

 **Thank you so much to those who reviewed!**


	32. Let's Hear It For The Boy

_You know you gotta understand_  
 _Oh, maybe he's no Romeo_  
 _But he's my lovin' one-man show_  
 _Oh, whoa, let's hear it for the boy_

Let's Hear It For The Boy - Denice Williams

* * *

My lecturers at University always made a point to tell me that I had too much of an attitude.

I've always been aware of this, even when I was just a kid. I wasn't a child that would misbehave dramatically or anything, but certain rules and regulations that came with growing up just didn't sit well with me. It was, maybe, one of the few worries I had about the strictness of Starfleet. Still, I assumed I'd get used to it, as I did with much of what had been thrown my way lately.

It's why, when I am summoned from my quarters at a fucking ungodly hour and to the Med-Bay, that I am nothing but snappy at Admiral Akatchi and the man who had introduced himself as Doctor Hughes.

Akatchi was a small man, and I don't mean in stature. The word _wanker_ was one I associated most often with him. I wasn't stupid, I knew very fucking well that he was dubious of me. He didn't like that I would attend Starfleet. He didn't like that he and the Doctors of the Federation building had so little say in what tests were being run on me, and when the results would be available. I'm almost certain that's why he was attempting to run them on me now.

'I don't want anything done to me without Admiral Lee on _anyone_ who has already dealt with me here!' Talking like this to someone who would soon be my superior was stupid, I know, but this conversation seemed to be me repeating myself, and Akatchi introducing no valid reason for me having the exact same tests I had already gone through.

He wrinkles his nose and replies with, 'Because I feel it necessary, Miss Adams'.

 _That's not a reason, fuckwit._ I can see the apprehension in his face when I raise my voice higher, and I want to roll my eyes at him. Did he think me so lacking in control? 'For the _millionth time,_ Doctor McCoy has assured me that I am up to date and finished with any more tests until my results come through. So no, _sir_ , I will not let you _stab_ me with _that_ -' I wave a hand at the injection _thing_ the Doctor was holding.

It's heavy footfalls that draw my attention away from the Admiral. It's only then that I notice that beyond the entrance to the Med-Bay, there were a few individuals lingering and trying their best to make sure it looked like they weren't listening. _He's making a pretty shoddy job of keeping me a secret, huh?_

There, storming forward with clenched fists and the familiar scowl of anger on his face, is Leonard. Were I not half mortified to see him, I might have grinned in triumph and thrown an oh-so mature 'Ha!' the Admirals way. My heart stutters, though, and I blink in surprise at his sudden appearance. The fact that he had come to get me...that he must have heard I was here... _Screw him_ for making my chest flutter like that.

When Leonard speaks, he is most _definitely_ pissed. He reaches us with a good half a foot of height over both men, and looks angrily between them. 'Admiral, if you'll excuse me, is there any damn reason you've taken Miss Adams from her quarters, when she has been assured time over than her Medical Examinations are now finished?' When he stands beside me, I make an effort to try and catch his eye. No luck. ' _Sir_?'

I look to Akatchi, quite pleased to see him flailing for words. Ha, ha, ha. 'Precautions, Chief Medical Officer-'

Oh, bull _shit_.

'Or a disbelief in my own competence as a Physician?' Oh, he's _pissed._ Beside him, I shift and look to the Admiral, making zero attempt to hide my smug smile. The Admiral looks ready to murder me. Doctor Hughs, on the other hand, looks like he wants to be swallowed by the floor. 'Believe me, you lot'll be the first to know when the results come through. Until then, Miss Adams has been given leave to _rest._ As her Physician, I only implore you to leave her _damn well alone_ '.

He's pulling me by the elbow before I can so much as punctuate his words with some snippy ones of my own, and within seconds his long footfalls and strong grasp have dragged us beyond the Med-Bay and down the wide corridor leading to the elevator. Quite suddenly, my annoyance is no longer directed at Akatchi, and instead at Leonard. He won't even _look_ at me.

'Are you going to Terminator-walk out of here, or are you actually going to talk to me?' I snap, walking briskly by his side and glaring up at him. Was he not even going to mention the night before? Was he not going to say _anything_? 'I suppose I should say thank-you, anyway. They were _never_ going to listen to me. I think that arse-hole thinks I really enjoyed all the shit that _happened_ to me-'

He's barely listening to me, and it makes me even more pissed off. Leonard steps into the small space and I follow quickly, my mouth pulling into a tight frown. He was being _odd;_ almost nervous. He was tense and weird, and it was more off-putting than anything I has encountered yet. Leonard McCoy did not seem like the type to get nervous. It takes a split second for me to finally catch is gaze as we stand before each-other in the elevator, and my mouth goes dry when I see the _look_ in those hazel eyes.

It was the same one as last night.

I can't help but smile just a little, my words dying in my throat.

My breath hitches when Leonard steps forward, and I am partially mortified to find that the lights above us flicker along with my stuttering heartbeat. I have no time to wonder why he's suddenly stopped being a stubborn arse, nor why he was looking at me like _that._ I only know that he's breathing hard, and that he's staring at me, and that if he doesn't kiss me within the next five seconds, I might kill him.

'Go on, then,' I murmur.

And, he does.

The doors slide shut and his mouth is on mine and, hot damn, his kisses are as brash and forward as he is. Were his mouth not on mine, I might sigh and say _finally_ , but I am far too distracted by his hands on my neck, my jaw, and my waist, moving with no ounce of carefulness. No, he'd know I'd hate that. Leonard is well aware that I am neither fragile nor patient, and his lips are warm and dry and his body suddenly pressed against mine is everything I had hoped it would be.

It's nothing like the chaste kisses of romance novels, because this is _not_ a romance novel. Honestly, that's partially why I had fallen for the idiot. Leonard McCoy was nothing like a cliche, and that was what I needed. I never wanted softness or flowers, I wanted a Southern idiot who kissed me like he was desperate for air.

I pull away from him when I hear the swoosh of the doors, and my mind buzzes with my own heartbeat and the sound of people beyond the doors. When I speak, it's far too loud and hitched with nervousness but, thank God, Leonard accepts my offer of coffee with a snort and curled lips, and I slouch in relief. 'Thank fuck,' I say. 'It would have been very awkward if you'd said no'. He rolls his eyes, a habit of which I am more than happy to indulge in, in that moment. I am about to open my mouth to say something else, of what I'm not entirely sure, when the Communicator I shoved into the pocket of my dress (another dress with pockets! Amazing!), trills.

The look we share melts from an after-kiss high to mutual annoyance.

Leonard makes a tutting noise as we both, in unison, vacate the elevator. I scramble for the Comm, throwing Leonard a _look,_ my cheeks surely the colour of my dress, and flip open the Comm with sweaty palms. 'Hello?'

We step toward a potted plant in the far corner of the building, Leonard watching me with stiff shoulders and a studying gaze, of which melts into one of annoyance when a voice replies, 'Miss Adams. I request your presence in Meeting Room 106 in exactly fifteen minutes. Is this acceptable for you?'

Leonard rolls his eyes so hard this time, that his whole head seems to follow the motion. 'Typical,' he mutters.

'Oh, Mister Spock,' I reply, voice a little too high. 'Um. Yes. Of course'.

'Until then'.

The silence lets me know that he is no longer on the other end of the Comm, and I flip it shut with an uneasy look up to Leonard. The Doctor presents me with a wry smile and a, 'Pigs will damn fly when you and I don't get interrupted'.

I laugh, an odd high-pitched sound, and peer nervously up at the Doctor. Beyond our little quiet corner, life seems to go on. Leonard looks right back down at me, jaw jumping and hazel gaze studying my heavily. He looks apprehensive. 'Are you...' I clear my throat, suddenly overwhelmed and, for fucks sake, why was I such a nervous wreck. This was _Leonard_. ' _Good_?'

A slow brow cocks, and he replies easily with, 'Am now, sweetheart'.

I all but thump his arm. 'Don't _tease_ me'. When a look down at the Comm in my hand, I furrow a brow. 'I wonder what Mister Spock wants with me?' After a few seconds of silence, I look back up at Leonard. Then my own eyes narrow. He looks _shifty_. 'Oh, what?' I almost groan. 'What do you know?'

He seems to be struggling momentarily of whether to say anything to me, before he sighs. ' _Dammit_. Remember me mentionin' not too long ago about Nero? The Alternate Universe?'

I did. I had scoured any records and files I could on the subject; the idea that other timelines and Universes existed along with my own a well read upon factor of this world. It had been a fucking revelation to learn that a counter to Mister Spock was now in this Universe, after getting stuck here much like I was. I had always assumed that the lack of any more discussion on the subject meant that there was no point. We weren't from the same timeline or Universe, this other Spock, so what help or comfort could we give each other? Finally, I nod.

'I...' He flounders for a moment. 'Dammit. You'll find out soon enough'.

'God,' I mutter wryly. ' _That_ doesn't sound ominous'.

His smile is apologetic. 'C'mon. Back in'. I sigh and follow his lead back into the elevator, settling on the fact that coffee and any form of discussion would have to be pushed aside. _2 days_ , I think with a press of my nails into my palm. I didn't like to leave things unfinished, I was always that with projects at University, and I don't think I could bare to let him leave without at least fifty more kisses.

* * *

As it turns out, Meeting Room 106 is the exact same one I had met Admiral Lee in. When I enter, Leonard on my heel, I see the room looks much the same. My nerves only skyrocket when I see the two men standing before the long table. One, a stoic and straight backed man of whom I recognise, decked in his blue Science uniform, and his brow cocking at Leonard the moment he turns toward us. 'Doctor McCoy,' Mister Spock practically drawls. 'I should have known you would not be far behind Miss Adams'.

'Shut up, Spock,' the Doctor growls. The lack of reaction from the Vulcan (not that I assumed there would be any, that was their thing, wasn't it?) makes me think that the Science Officer was aware Leonard's words meant no real harm.

After the doors slide shut behind us, I feel tiny in comparison to these men. I _hate_ it. My gaze jumps to the man in the grey robes, his haircut much the same as Mister Spock's, and his slanting ears telling me all that I needed to know: this was the Other Spock. I breathe in deeply, willing myself to not say anything stupid in the presence of not one, but two Vulcan's. Except...I suddenly want to ask _all_ of the stupid questions in the world when this Other Spock turns, aged eyes finding me, and says in a tone with far too much familiarity, ' _June Adams_ '.

His voice is deep and familiar, and it's honestly fucking baffling to look at the aged version of the Spock standing to the Other Spock's left. I want to laugh, quite suddenly. Or grip my head in utter frustration and confusion. One of the two. 'Um,' I croak. 'Hello there'.

He dips his head, before taking a single step forward, all with grace that comes with old age, and continues to look over me. 'Fascinating,' the Other Spock rumbles, dark eyes flickering over my form. I suddenly want to be eaten by the floor beneath my feet. 'I have never seen you this young'.

And suddenly, the questions seem to be piling like wildfire in my mind. This man, this Other Spock, he had known me. Intimately. _It has come to my attention that, upon conversing with my Alternate self, something similar occurred in the universe from which he hailed. I was also informed that he held...respect to the June Adams of his universe._ That's what Mister Spock had said, so long ago. 'You...you know me,' I say, and it isn't a question.

Other Spock dips his head. 'I knew _a_ you,' he replies. 'A different you'. He looks, then, to Leonard. The Doctor stands just a step behind me, to my right, and I feel him step forward at the sudden attention. 'Although, I suppose some things remain the same, no matter the circumstances that make them so vastly different'. There is a trace of amusement in his voice, and I am stumped by how different Other Spock seems from the one I had grown to know, however distantly. 'Doctor McCoy,' Other Spock greets.

'Ambassador,' Leonard rumbles right back. I want to look at him, but some stupid worry inside of me wonders that if just one look at the Doctor will alert the watching Vulcans' exactly why my cheeks were so flushed, and why Leonard was grumpier than usual. It's almost...nice, I guess, to know that he was as bothered as I was by our interruption.

Other Spock is far more of a talker than his younger counterpart, and his low voice drawls to the Doctor and the First Officer about Jim and how the Enterprise was fairing, as we are seated at the table. Mister Spock, I notice, still considered Leonard with a look that says, _just why are you here, Doctor?_ I wonder the same, to be honest, but am more than thankful for Leonard's presence. Even in the most difficult situations, he always seems to be there. As a Doctor, I can only assume he knows when someone needs comfort, and that was exactly what he was giving me.

Somehow, he had turned into my safety blanket.

'The reason I have requested your presence, Miss Adams, is because I have given much thought to your predicament'. It's disconcerting, I think, to see Spock and Other Spock sitting side by side, opposite Leonard and I. I shift in my seat, my hands coming to rest on my nervously jumping knees. 'Though only slightly different from the happenings of my own timeline, I am well versed in how to aid you in understanding your abilities'.

A brief silence follows this.

'And you waited _this_ damn long to say anything?' Leonard snaps, his gruff voice directed at both Spock's.

'I'm with the grumpy Doctor on this one,' I mumble, looking between the two Vulcan's.

Other Spock bows his head. 'I understand your frustration, Miss Adams, but I first had to understand the _you_ that you are now. You were older, by nearly ten years, when I first met you, and had left a career and life behind that you missed dearly. You were able to understand your abilities and their presence nearly immediately and, as I have heard from Mister Spock here, this is not the case here'. If I wasn't already flushed from nervousness, I'm sure I would blush even more.

My mind, though, flits elsewhere briefly. _Ten years older._ Ten more years with my family. Ten more years to create the career I had worked tirelessly for, but never reached. Ten years of experiences and memories that would have maybe made me a different person to one I am now. Nervously my fingernails etch into the skin of my bare knees, and I take a deep breath and nod. 'I can understand that,' I reply.

 _Stay calm._

'And yet,' Other Spock continues, passive expression only betrayed by old eyes. 'I have come to the conclusion that you are, thankfully, fundamentally the June Adams I knew once, albeit without the experience. It is for this reason, and with the knowledge gained from those who know you who assure me you wish to do only good with your abilities, that I tell you this: in my own timeline, you were able to gain and understanding and control of your abilities through teachings of the Vulcan-kind'.

If the June of of his timeline was anything like me, I can only assume that, upon learning the emotionless Vulcan's were going to help her understand her abilities, her reaction would have been much like mine. '...I'm an emotional _wreck._ I'm sorry, but _how_ did that work?'

Something like a twitch of a smile graces Other Spock's features, and Mister Spock beside him quirks a brow in agreement. Other Spock continues without pausing, 'Whilst Vulcan's attempt to live by logic and reason with as little interference from emotion as possible, you were aided in only _controlling_ your emotions. You were quite a difficult student, I must admit, but a challenge I was ready to accept. In your later years, you _were...powerful._ A vision of positive coming from such a wholly negative situation'.

Apparently, even Mister Spock was not aware of this bit of information, because he looks sharply to his counterpart, just as Leonard baulks, ' _You_ were her teacher?' I look at him just in time to see him look at his own Spock, and twist his mouth into a wry smile. Leonard's leans back in his chair. ' _That's_ something I'd like to see'.

Mister Spock, I see, is looking at me with a peculiar look on his face. In return, I solidly avoid looking anywhere near him. The Vulcan man had always kind of...scared me. His utter and complete control of his emotions was something that I could not relate to, and I was thankful to know that Other Spock was well aware I would never be able to rid myself of the explosive emotions that made me _me_.

My fingernails dig deeper into my knees.

'Of course,' Other Spock says. 'I frequent Earth when I am not on New Vulcan, and if you were to accept, I would offer to do what we did then, in this time. There is no one in this timeline who understands how to help you like I'. With that bomb of a comment, I am left with Leonard breathing out a puff of air beside me, as if he could also feel the weight of words.

I mean, there is no way I could turn it down, and there was no way I wanted to. Finally, _finally_ , there was someone who could help me; someone who had, apparently, aided me in controlling my emotions when my abilities crept up on me and made me fear myself. There would be someone who could guide me, someone who was a link to the Enterprise, someone who was aware of who I was, and who I _could_ become.

 _Things are getting better._

It is Leonard's finger tracing the line of my knee that has me blurting out, 'I'd be an idiot to say no, wouldn't I?'

This time, I am sure I see an inkling of a smile on Other Spock's face. 'Interesting,' he replies, watching myself and Leonard carefully. Beside him, Mister Spock seems to be considering the depth of the conversation. Weird, that I would be spending time with him, and yet not him at all. 'You said something quite similar when I asked you a similar question, so long ago'.

* * *

All the new knowledge seems to have swept aside any awkwardness between Leonard and I, because the walk back to my quarter is, I'm kind of embarrassed to admit, filled me with rambling and rambling...

And _rambling_.

'-He knew me. Isn't that weird? Has he told you anything about the Other You? Fucking weird, isn't it?' I fiddle with the keypad beside my door, and walk into my quarters with Leonard close my back. He had been nothing but a perfect listener as I spoke my rambling thoughts out loud. 'I never really thought about if things would have been very different for me in the other timeline. Ten years older - is it vapid to ask him if I age well? Probably, yeah-'

'I'd like to see the look on his face if ya did,' Leonard replies form behind me. I turn to him, smiling and, fuck, I'm _happy_. The terror of attending Starfleet with what I am seems so much less. 'Different timeline or not, I'd pay to see either Spock's be on the other end of your _proper_ damn ramblin', sweetheart'.

I grin. 'Eat glass, Leonard'.

He considers me, brow raised and mouth perked into one of his many little smirks. 'You're happy,' he remarks. There's no attempt to hide his pleasure at these words, and when I blush and mumble, he yanks me in for a hug. His hand sliding from my shoulder to my back, I smile against his front and wrap my own arms around his middle. 'You know,' I say, words muffled by his uniform. 'I _am_ surprised you're being so _touchy_ , after your _freak out_ last night'.

He pulls me at arms length, frown on his face and brow cocked. 'Straight damn to it, huh?'

I hesitate for a moment, before reaching up and stroking the stubble of his jaw. With a half shrug, I reply, 'I'm only joking. _Really_. I mean, after the number you planted on me earlier, I know it wasn't because of anything to do with me. I mean,' I scoff. 'I'm amazing, so _obviously_ not'. There's that familiar eye roll. 'I really wish you'd realise that _I_ am the one so entirely undeserving of you, you know,' I inform him, thumb ghosting across where stubble ends, and rough cheeks begin. 'And I understand if you don't want to wait. I would never hold that against you, Len...it's _three years_ '.

He catches my hand, and I suck in a deep breath. He's looking down at me with that dark and calculating look; the one that tells me I am about to get a proper Southern speech, metaphors and all. Except...that isn't what I get. What I get is deft fingers turning my hand in his grasp, and a warm kiss to the inside of my wrist, so reminiscent to the one I had received months ago. I make a noise between a laugh and choke, to which Leonard smirks in amusement. 'June,' he says, as if he is about to tell me off. 'I've been married once. I have _Jo._ I've been through enough damn heartbreak to last a damn lifetime, and I am near terrified of anythin' like that happenin' with you, d'you get that? I ain't one to go waltzing into anything I don't want unless I'm sure. It ain't _me_ I'm worried about'.

...Oh.

I bite the side of my mouth, before linking my fingers with his and pulling him forward after a moment thought. He looks down at me, and me up at him, and want to feast on this moment, on him like _this_. I am going to miss him so fucking much. With one hand each linked between us, I reply, 'I know you're...you're worried I'll find someone else whilst you're away and I'm at Starfleet. It's a valid fucking worry. I'm about to meet a Hell of a lot of people. But I've...I've already _met_ people. I've had twenty-four years - fuck, probably twenty-five now - of meeting people, and I know full well that _none_ of them even come close to being _you,_ Doctor McCoy'.

His jaw works, and his grip tightens in mine. He seems on the edge. _Stubborn man, just give in._ 'I _can't_ ask you to-'

I roll my eyes. 'Good _God_ , Leonard. You're not _asking_ me anything! Christ on a _bike_ , you're stubborn-'

His mouth contracts into a frown, and with an affronted air he snaps back with, 'And I don't wanna to be holdin' you back, woman-!'

I scoff. ' _Woman_. Christ, is it 1920? Leonard, I can't believe I'm about to say this, its so bloody corny...you...look, if _anything_ , _you_ have done the exact _opposite_ of hold me back. The moment I got past that terribly gruff and angry exterior, I realised that this might be a world I _could_ live in. You were my first,' I roll my eyes and groan out the word, ' _friend_ here. You're the bloody reason it became easier to make a home here, _moron_ -'

And, for the second time that day, he kisses me.

I waste no time in pressing myself to him in any way I can, my smile imprinting on his mouth, and my fingers drawing away from his hands and instead to grip at the fabric of his shirt. Knowing there is no chance of being interrupted, I am far more inclined to remember each detail of his kiss. He holds me like I am entirely _his,_ and, fuck, can Doctor McCoy _kiss_. He surges forward, slow and hard all at once, and I am left nearly dizzy the moment he pulls away.

His eyes are dark, and that sends a thrill down to my stomach.

'Three years,' he murmurs, voice gruffer than before and hand raising to tuck a piece of red hair behind my ear. For some reason, the action makes me more embarrassed than the kiss did.

I nod, breathless and just an inch from his mouth. 'Three years, Doc'. I cannot help but think that I am not...shocked that this has finally happened. It seemed inevitable, somehow, that we would end up here, words of teasing insults on our tongues and kisses pressed to each others mouths. 'I-' And I stop, suddenly, because in my mess of thoughts, a sudden one has arrived unbidden at the forefront of my mind. 'Holy fuck,' I mutter, to which Leonard looks at me in mild alarm. 'My seven days are _up'._ The morning had been such a mess of things that I had forgotten.

I smack his chest lightly in excitement, to which the Doctor huffs and blinks. 'What in the damn _hell_ are you-?' He must then realise my meaning, because his eyes widen a fraction and he is looking down at me, and small smile gracing those lovely lips. 'Did the Admiral's tell ya you had to wait for any orders-?'

'Hell if I know!' I reply brightly, pulling myself away from him. 'Seven days for tests and evaluations, and they're done! Probably why Akatchi was such as arse this morning, come to think of it...' Leonard glowers, to which I snap my fingers. 'We can report him _later_. If they wanted me to wait around for orders, they should have said, _shouldn't_ they? I-' I pause, nervous again, and blurt out. 'Would you like to come with me? It'll probably look better if I have someone with me'.

'June,' Leonard replies. 'It would be my damn pleasure'.

'Lovely. _Ooooh_ , do you reckon we could find somewhere that does those lemon and poppy seed muffins?'

* * *

 **So, I am on such a hype with this story at the moment and cannot stop updating. Thank you so much for the lovely and helpful feedback, guys! It means so much!**

 **Things are looking good now, but how long is that going to last? Oooh, ominous!**


	33. We Belong

_We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder_  
 _We belong to the sound of the words we've both fallen under_  
 _Whatever we deny or embrace for worse or for better_  
 _We belong, we belong, we belong together_

We Belong - Pat Benatar

* * *

'This is an okay dress to wear, right? I never really considered _casual clothes_ of this time. I mean, I've seen a few people and, er, aliens in the street dressed...differently, but I didn't think it was-'

'Good God, woman, you look _fine,'_ Leonard growls, already glancing over his shoulder every ten seconds. Jeez, it wasn't hard to tell when the Doctor was in one of his iffy moods. I mean, I get he was worried someone would see us...but they said seven days, and seven days it had fucking been. It wasn't my fault they hadn't made some grand bloody gesture to let me know I was a-okay to have free rein of San Fran.

'Just _fine_?' I grumble, to which the Doctor shoots me a very hard look. I try to suppress my snort, I really do.

For the first time in a while, the excitement I feel isn't linked with some horrid nervousness. No, this is genuine excitement and impatience and, shit, what would I _see_? So much of my view of the future had been obscured by Starfleet and the Federation, but now I could...I could see the life I would be living, as a civilian. 'I officially exist now, you know,' I inform him, eyeing the exit to the Shore Leave building.

'I'm aware,' Leonard replies distractedly. He's walking so damn _fast_.

'I was born in 2236,' I begin, resisting the urge to grab his arm to yank him to slow down. 'I don't feel like such a cradle snatcher, now'. At that, he offers a drily amused look down his arm at me, and I grin. 'What's it _like_?' We're at the entryway, and I stutter in my steps for just a moment. Beyond those large glass windows was the world I had tried through PADDs and articles to find out more about, and here I was. So close.

We stop, and Leonard looks down at me and, after a moment, I up at him. His gaze softens, and I can only assume that he's doing his rare thing of brushing aside his own annoyance to be _nice_. I think he might say something lovely, but instead I am presented with, 'You might find it a little different from your time, sweetheart, I gotta warn ya. It's damn _clean_ , for one-'

If we had turned just to the right, we might have seen three of the Enterprise crew, namely Scotty, Uhura and Chekov, sitting idly at the bar with horrible little smirks on their faces as they looked over at the Doctor they knew so well, and little old _me_. If I had turned and seen them, I might have half-wondered what Scotty and Chekov were arguing lowly about. If I knew at the time what Leonard knew, I would assume it was the little bet they had going on, and both were wondering who had _really_ won.

I don't see any of them, though. I see only the quirked brow of Leonard McCoy, and hear his drawl of, 'C'mon, sweetheart. Time to face the music'.

* * *

'What's that?'

'I don't damn know - a _building_?'

'No shit, Leonard - oh, _oh_ , it's a _supermarket._ What do they even _look_ like now?'

'Whole new world at your fingertips, and you're interested in a _supermarket_. I wonder if you're right in the damn head sometimes, woman'.

 _'I wonder if you're right in the head, woman,'_ I imitate in a poor impression of his twanging accent coming out of my mouth. With a sly grin his way, I all but trip over my own feet upon nearly bumping into a particularly non-humanoid looking individual. I try not to stare as they pass us, I really do, but in the end, Leonard has to yank me by the crook of my elbow away from them.

I follow, in a slight daze as we weave through people and talk over the noise of the city.

I had never been to San Francisco, so I had nothing to compare this world's version of the city to. I had seen films and stuff, and I could tell that the world now was just slightly beyond the world I knew. The buildings still held the same stature as the ones from my time, with updates of larger windows, holographic advertisements for about a billion different devices, and the added bonus of bloody flying cars. It was clean, fresh, and so...so oddly familiar, and yet not familiar at all. I felt _normal,_ walking through the City with Leonard at my side. He answered any questions I had with his usual gruffness, and an added care to how he explained certain things to me.

'So...there's no such thing as _money_?'

He's distracted, I notice, and keeps glancing over his shoulder every so often. We're only a few blocks away from the Shore Leave building, and I know he is somehow worried others will see him with me and assume the worst. 'No,' he murmurs. 'Credits'.

'Oh, yeah'. I had almost definitely read that somewhere. 'I kinda knew that, actually, I-' The words, quite suddenly, feel like _foam_ in my throat and a _twist_ in my gut. I am so rarely speechless; so rarely _scared._ I realise, for just a split second, that maybe everything that had happened in the last few months had changed me more than I knew.

Beyond the crowd of people that we move slowly with, I think I see _him_. We stand in the middle of the street, amongst the tall buildings of the City, and it takes Leonard only a second to catch on to my wide stare and frozen mouth. Because I am staring - and I am staring very obviously at a man with grey hair and blue eyes who crossed our paths for just a second, and I-I-

'June,' Leonard murmurs, drawing me to the side of the street, outside of a shop that sells organic cleaning products. I swallow and shake myself out of the sudden shocked stupor I had found myself in. I take a deep breath and look at Leonard, at his furrowed brow and tight frown, and huff a small laugh.

'Sorry,' I rush out, already flushing from embarrassment. 'I had a, er, _funny thought_ for a second. How about you lead us somewhere, huh? You lived here for ages, surely you know somewhere-'

' _June_ '. He's holding me, now, hands folded around the curve of both my shoulders, and I swallow tightly at his tone. Trust Leonard to pry; to fully understand what had made me pale and lose my breath. Trust me to not be able to lie to him for more than ten seconds.

My smile falters, until I am grimacing and muttering, over the sound of the City, 'It's _stupid_...I thought I saw Bates, okay? It wasn't him. I-It just _scared_ me, for a second-' I cut myself off and swallow, gaze dropping and fingers twitching. 'It wasn't him,' I breathe, to myself and Leonard. 'Jesus - quit looking at me like that. I'm _fine_ -'

He's turning on his heel and dragging me with him before I can finish my thought, and I grunt and yelp to which the good Doctor says, 'C'mon - there's a place down this way Jim used to love. Real food, not out of a damn _Replicator_.'

He doesn't speak again, and I swallow my nerves and follow him. Not that I have a choice, really, because it takes me all of one minute to realise that he has looped his fingers with my own, and the feel of his warm skin against mine makes my stomach drop. We walk down the long street, which seems to be taken over my mostly tourist stops and supermarkets, until Leonard pulls to a sharp right, and we find ourselves down a street with holographic signs depicting dozens of food places.

As he pulls me along, I _look_ at him.

He's worried. Well, I am not quite sure if it is worry or agitation, but it's one of the two. He'd changed into a loose shirt and dark jeans before we had left, and I appreciate for just a moment the _strength_ the Doctor seemed to carry behind those clothes. He was doing all of this for me, I knew. Soon, he would be well away from Earth, and I had no doubt that he had things to do, but selfishly...selfishly I wanted him all to myself until he left. The thought, after today, makes me chest ache. I realise, that to any one passing us, we must seem like a couple. We're holding hands, and I'm gazing up at him like a lovesick idiot.

When did I become so bloody soppy?

We make a sharp turn for a cafe to our right, where there is no holographic sign, but a simple wooden one: _Cheryl's Place._ There are cacti on the windowsill outside, oddly, and an air of homemade food about the menu on the window that makes me smile as we wander in. It's warm inside and coloured with light blue wallpaper, and there are chairs scattered about and little holo menus on each of the tables and, oh dear fucking God, this is a _date_ , isn't it?

The place is quiet, I'm thankful to see, and Leonard leads the way, tugging me toward a table in the far corner, far away from the kitchen or the counter. I let go of his hand, and him mine, and when we quietly slide into our seats, I barely have time to apologise for the earlier encounter before Leonard is saying, in his subtle way, 'I have the name of a counsellor who you'd be suited to'.

I falter in flattening my dress over my legs and blink at him from across the round and chipped table. It was nice, to know that the famous and dazzling Jim Kirk liked a little rustic cafe. 'O- _oh_?' I croak. I'd thought about it, of course. I was going to need to talk to someone the moment the Enterprise left, and I was alone with my thoughts and grief. I just...never truly considered that anyone else had, too. 'I mean, duh, I just...you didn't have to look into that-'

He casts me a look that says _of course I damn did,_ before placing those _magical_ bloody hands on the table. I am struck, so suddenly, by how cheated I have been from seeing him like this more often. Were things so entirely and completely different, we might have had time to go on dozens of these little outings. Rubbing a hand over his quickly growing stubble, Leonard replies, 'You looked like you wanted to _bolt_ back there, sweetheart. Though I've seen worse cases of PTSD, you sure as shit show symptoms here and there. I'd...I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I knew you were talking to a professional'.

 _PTSD_. I mean...sure. Yeah. The dreams, the paranoia, the worry of Bates breaking out and hurting me, the _grief._ I'd seen what losing a leg had done to my cousin, I'd seen what coming home from war had done to my mother's brother...there was a part of me, a small part, that wanted to turn his offer down. I didn't need anyone else bursting into my life and helping me limp along, but...but I knew that this was something that I had to do for _him_. Leonard Horatio McCoy was a sour and gruff man, but he cared far too fucking much, and I knew that he would worry.

'Of course,' I murmur, nodding a little.

His shoulders sag just slightly. 'Good.' There is a pause, in which he looks at me and I look at him, and I feel his foot nudge mine under the table. 'He's not gettin' anywhere near you again, sweetheart'.

I nod again. I can see the woman I assume to be Cheryl approaching, a human with a shock of white blonde hair and lines on her face from too much laughing. She's wearing a pretty floral dress and speaks with a Southern twang. 'Hey there, folks, I - Oh, Doctor McCoy!' She has green eyes, pale and like ageing grass, and I think that this woman might be sunshine and happiness personified. Leonard offers her a half-smile. 'Jim did come in here a few days ago with that Vulcan fellow, sayin' you were back for a little while.'

Leonard, in reply, rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat. 'Damn knew he couldn't stay away from this place. Those coffee cakes of yours are his _weakness_.'

It takes a mere second for me to wonder if, in his days at the Academy, Leonard had ever looked at this woman as more than an owner to a cafe. He was fresh from his divorce, lonely, and she was...beautiful, and closer to his age. The woman seemed to project kindness within a few seconds of talking to her...she didn't have enough baggage and heartache to last a lifetime, like-

I throw the stupid, jealous thoughts from my mind and smile when she addresses me with a hello and a smile, and order a green tea and a glass of water. This woman had done nothing to deserve my bitter thoughts, other than having a much cleaner and simpler life than my own. After she leaves, with a swish of her floral skirt, I waste no time in blurting out to Leonard,

'I'm almost definitely going to visit Maria Atwood.'

And, yeah, I'm quite sure this is the man I will love for the rest of my muddled life when he replies with no attempt to stop me, 'June,' Leonard drawls, brow cocking and mouth twisting. 'It taken me a damn while, but I think I've finally come to terms with the fact that _you_ know what's best for you. Doesn't mean the idea of of you visitin' that damn woman gives me any ounce of _joy_ '.

I throw him a half grin at that. 'She did...she did _save_ me.'

'She also _took_ you.'

That's what made it so hard to like the woman, I suppose. She had been the mind behind the Portal. She had been the one who delivered me to the scientists every day. And yet...she had been the one to allow me to escape; to find a life here, and to be _safe_. Somehow, I found it hard to hate the woman who had made such a terrible mistake, but who was more than willing to reap the consequences.

I make a noise and huff. 'Enough about _that_. We've got thirty-nine hours, and I'll be fucked if we're going to spend it moping over me'. He cocks a brow, as if surprised I was taking note of the time. 'Why do you wear that pinky ring?'

He pauses, before wiggling said ring and lifting his hand from the table. It glints in the light, and I am once again thrown by how...well, how oddly attracted I could be to someone's _hands_. 'It was my Pa's. Gave it to me when I first became a certified surgeon.' _He calls his Dad his Pa, and the ring is his Dad's._ I store the information at the back of my mind, in his own special box. Amongst the new additions were Starfleet Academy Engineering modules, and new Medical Equipment I had read about the night before. I smile when Leonard shoots back with, 'Did you just order a damn _green tea_?'

I blink. 'Well, what's wrong with _that_?'

'Nothin', just thought I'd finally found my equal in coffee-drinkin', is all-'

I snort out a genuine laugh, and my cheeks for warm when a smile tugs at Leonard's own mouth. 'It's _good_ for you, Doctor-'

'Now you're gonna preach about what's good for me? I've seen you throw yourself into more dangerous situations that Jim, and that's sayin' somethin', sweetheart.' I love him like this, I think, with his cocky smiles and dry humour. I reach forward, ready to slap him playfully on the hand, but I'm only momentarily thrown off when he grabs it without a moments pause, his thumb coming to swipe across my palm, his dark eyes finding mine, and his smirk twitching when I apparently lose all momentum.

I'm damn near fucking _breathless_.

Cheryl comes with our drinks, a green tea for me and a black coffee for Leonard, and when I attempt to tug my hand away, Leonard holds onto it with a pointed look. My hand feels small and awkward in his. I thank the smiling woman, sure that I am as red as the flowers on her dress, and mutter mildly to Leonard as she walks away, 'I thought we were being _subtle_.'

'Damned if I can stop myself when you're smilin' like that, sweetheart. If I'd known you'd be this happy, I'd have got you out of that artificial hellhole a lot sooner-' I know there's not truth to his words, but they throw me off enough to have me stuttering and blushing and, for fucks sake, I never quite know what to do with myself with this version of Leonard makes an appearance; the smooth talking Southern gentleman with hands like magic and eyes that make me want to _jump him_.

'Oh my God, _stop_.'

He looks like he wants to laugh, and his thumb swipes over my skin again. He is enjoying this, I realise. Leonard McCoy is well aware that I am a bumbling mess of nerves, and he is _enjoying_ this fact more than anyone else before him has. 'Stop bein' so damn pretty, then, sweetheart.'

The worlds tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them, a teasing idea that makes me blush to my roots. 'You keep talking to me like that, Doctor, and I'm going to have a hard time not popping under this table and showing you how pretty _you_ are.' I snort - loudly, might I add - when he blinks and goes just a tint of pink, and carries on easily with, 'Did you ever had any pets growing up?'

* * *

He's happy, and the sight makes my heart _swell_.

We delve deeper into the side streets of the City, intent upon not running into any Cadets who might recognise the famed Leonard McCoy, or any of the Enterprise crew who know nothing of my true identity. I make sure to hold his hand, the feeling of doing so seeming like a reward for finally stepping up and planting a kiss on the man.

I want to make the most of him whilst I can.

It is unsaid, but there is no mention of Bates, or how I am in this universe, or why we have to be careful of who sees us. There is nothing terribly cheesy about the way we are with each other, and I am so fucking grateful that we seemed to have slotted so wonderfully together, our banter and small touches enough to keep us content. I point to things, buildings and places, and Leonard gives me all of the information he can. When we pass a place that is playing music that I don't recognise, Leonard offers an explanation. Half the time, he has no fucking clue who it is, either.

'People in the future dress weirdly,' I mutter, shoulder pressed against his bicep and fingers linked loosely with his. 'I'm all for being fashion forward, but that man had lights on his leotard. Those are two words that should _not_ be in the same sentence.'

'I'm agreein' with you on that one, sweetheart-'

'Oh,' I say, pulling him to a stop and staring at small, brightly lit place on the opposing side of the street. It was late evening, now, and the bright lights of the place only seemed to be more inviting in the dim. 'My _God_.'

'Dammit, what-? Oh, good God no.'

'Leonard. Leonard _please_.'

'My ears will damn _bleed_.'

'Fate wants us to go in there. It _made_ us turn down this street.'

'Our damn feet made us turn down this street - oh, Christ, _fine_. One _damn_ drink and then we are leaving. I dread to think the likes that'll be in there, wouldn't be surprised if Chekov isn't lingering in the booths.'

I offer him a sly grin, to which the Doctor rolls his eyes and holds my hand just a little tighter as I tug him across the paved road. There people loitering outside of the colourfully lit bar, of which the holographic and all together over the top writing on the outside read: Disq-O. 'Good God,' is all Leonard says upon reading it.

It's a bloody 70's and 80's bar, complete with overly bright wallpaper the moment we walk in and down the small steps, and music that blares from down below. There are vinyl's lining the walls, pictures of historic events, people that I actually _recognise_ \- I squeeze Leonard's hand and grin up at him, and he replies with a mix between a grimace and smile of his own.

Apparently, the Bar was popular. So popular that even at seven in the evening, it was busy. There are a set of doors at the bottom of the steps, and upon pushing through them, we are met with a light up dance-floor, multicoloured seats and booths, and ABBA playing throughout the Bar. To make everything just that much better, it's _Dancing Queen_.

I throw Leonard a pointed look, to which he leans down and grumbles, 'This ain't makin' me like this place any better.' Still, he tugs me toward the bar and, despite my protests that he shouldn't be spending credits on me and that I only wanted to see what the place was like, he tells the woman with patterns indented in her skin on the other side of the bar (and who is wearing a small, white thing that I could only dream to pull off) that he will have a bourbon, and I will have a gin and lemonade.

Leonard hands me the drink and I stare out at the people dancing and talking and laughing, without having the worry of being caught. It was dimly lit in the loud Bar, with flashing lights and noise making my stares go unnoticed. There were all kinds of beings in this place, all race and ethnicity and genders apparent. This, I think, is the future I had wanted a glimpse of. A future where _everyone_ was welcome. The gin and lemonade tastes strong on my tongue, and I realise that the bartender had been just slightly generous.

'Why d'you like this music so much?' He has to dip his head to say the words over the loud music, and the feel of his body over mine and his rumbling voice so close to my ear makes me stomach flip. _Get a hold of yourself, woman._

I turn to look up at him, my straw in mouth. It takes me only a moment to realise that I had already finished the beverage, and with colouring cheeks a slip it to the slide. I shrug. 'It's just...happy, isn't it? It's...sex and empowerment and equality when the world was anything _but_ those things.'

He doesn't reply, even as I gaze up at him. He merely watches me, sips his drink, and then turns suddenly to the same bartender and calls over the music, 'Two of the same.'

With a grin, I brush a hand over his stubble, go up on my tiptoes, and say, 'I knew you'd like it in here, Grumpy.'

'Just like seein' you happy, _Dopey_.'

* * *

The table of the booth is slightly sticky, but I couldn't really care less in this moment. The music is loud and wonderful, and the place only seems to be growing busier and busier.

'That is _dumb,'_ I yell over the music. I can already tell that I am getting the fluffy drunk hair of being four gin and lemonades in, but with the way Leonard is lounging in his seat, so fucking relaxed, I could not care less. He had done so much for me, I wanted him to be drunk and happy and normal. And, sure, my tipsiness was an added bonus. 'If it didn't say in the rules you can't hack the test, then he _won_.'

Leonard, who is sitting in the seat next to me rather than across the booth, takes a longer sip of his drink and shrugs. 'Try tellin' Spock that. Shoulda seen the way he was lookin' at Jim that day. Man may try and hide his emotions, but I'm pretty damn sure he was ready to murder _Captain Kirk_.'

I laugh, sip through my straw, and then pat Leonard on the thigh. 'I need to pee,' I announce. 'Budge up.' He stands with a scoff, and I think, in my tipsy haze as his tall form seems to suddenly overshadow mine, that I haven't kissed him again today. At all. The second thing that I realise is that I am scared to. The third thing that I realise is that I really, really need to pee. 'I'll be right back,' I call over the music, to which Leonard waves a hand and grunts.

The toilets are, decidedly, much better than any Bar ones of my time. There's no pee on the floor, for one. The moment I am tripping from the stall and in front of the mirror, I grimace at my makeup-less state and messy hair, before shrugging and yanking my fingers idly though it. A woman with green skin and fiery red hair joins me soon after. Part of me wants to say I like her dress, but I chicken out and dart back toward the main Bar, and toward the sound of Freddie Mercury.

'Won't anyone be wondering where we are?' I ask, the moment I join Leonard's side at the Bar. I want to grin when I see that he had ordered two more drinks. We'll stay for just one, my arse.

He turns. 'If they wanted us, they'd have called. Here.'

'Yeah, you're -' I stall and grin. 'Oh man, this is a _song. Many times I tried to tell you. Many times I cried alone. Always I'm surprised how well you cut my feelings to the bone-'_

'Good Lord,' Leonard grimaces, though I can see he's smiling over his drink. 'You cannot sing, sweetheart-'

 _'We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder-!'_ I sing obnoxiously his way, my elbow leaning on the bar and my voice carrying along with the music. 'Oh, come on, you've never heard this before? It is a _banger_ -'

'A _what_?'

I ignore him, electing to instead laugh at the couple beside me who are clutching each other dramatically and laughing as they sing the song to each other. I don't miss, of course, the guy beyond them who seems to be practically eye-fucking Leonard. I grin, point this out to the oblivious Doctor, who replies over the music with, 'You've got yourself a damn catch, sweetheart.'

We leave, not long after we finish those drinks, both decidedly tipsy and tripping over our words (and me tripping over my feet). I slip my arm through Leonard's, rambling about how I had once gone to a lecture at University after drinking my weight in cheap vodka, to which he returns with his own story of how Jim had made him go out one night, only to realise they both had tests the next morning.

They both passed with flying colours, of course.

I realise I am drunk when I find myself staring up at him far too often as he talks, the lights of the City making him seem only more wonderful to look at. It's dark, now, and I appreciate San Fran from this whole new vantage. The future seemed to offer buildings so much more beautiful than my own, all of them lit up and ready for the world to see. Leonard, though, could not compare. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes seemed brighter from drink, and when I tug him to a pause on a street corner, where people seem to only be bustling outside of Bars and Nightclubs, I see that his lips are still glistening with bourbon.

'Can I kiss you?' I ask.

His reply is a dark look, and a tug of his hand on my waist, and his lips on mine in an instant.

And, fuck, I would never tire of him like this. I would never tire of the way he held me, hands curling around my waist and tugging me closer, and I would never tire of how brilliantly the man kissed. It is different this time, though, spurred on by alcohol and the night sky, and my breath stutters in my throat when I lean closer to him, my hands tugging on the waist of his thin shirt as I press my chest closer to his.

And, yeah, _that_ seems to do it.

He is like a wildfire, his touch spreading and leaving a burst of heat in its wake. I, in return, am putty in his hands. I _want_ him to lead, I _want_ him to show me exactly how he wants to kiss me. For once, I am so ready for someone else to take the lead for me.

Leonard tugs me backward the moment I pull away, breathless and swollen-lipped, and the sight of him with hooded eyes and a flickering gaze nearly sends me over the brink. Our feet make tripping noises against the concrete, until we are hidden by the darkness of a dead-end street that seemed littered with closed grocery stores.

We don't say anything. It seems we've done enough talking and waiting to last us a lifetime.

He tastes like bourbon and him, and I am almost embarrassed at how ready I am to run my hands over his chest, his sides - and I all but drop to my damn knees when he pulls away for just a moment, one hand cradling my jaw, and murmurs with a roughness in his voice I would remember for many days to come, 'You're gonna _kill_ me, woman.'

I have no smart reply for once. Apparently, the only thing that my brain knows how to do in that moment is kiss Leonard McCoy. Except, said brain seems to come to a stuttering halt when he dips his head, dark hair brushing my cheeks, and kisses where my neck meets my jaw. It's bordering mortifying and downright hot when I let out a stuttering breath that could quite easily be called a moan, and Leonard wrenches himself away from me with wide eyes a furrowed brow.

'Jesus Christ,' he said lowly, fingers till clutching my waist and chest heaving. _I did that_ , I think. _I made the great Leonard McCoy look at me like that._ 'As much as I don't want to, sweetheart, we need to damn stop, before-'

'Before somebody sees,' I mutter, feeling more drunk on his bloody kisses than I did the gin. I laugh, peering up at him as the Doctor sighs and flattens down my surely messy hair with both hands, his own mouth twisting into a wry grin. 'Got a bit carried away. Sorry,'

'There is _nothin_ ',' Leonard replies, drawing his hands away from my hair to cradle my face. I go warm at the feeling. 'To be apologisin' for.'

* * *

 **First and foremost, a huge, huge, huge thank you to my new Beta for this story _lawsomeantics38._** **I could not have asked for a better and kinder Beta!**

 **Secondly, thank you so much for the reviews and feedback. I really hope you guys like this slightly lighter chapter!**


	34. Someday We'll Be Together

_Someday we'll be together_  
 _Say it, say it again_  
 _Someday we'll be together_  
 _You're far away from me my love, and just as sure my,_  
 _My baby as there are stars above,_  
 _I wanna say, I wanna say, I wanna say someday we'll be together._

Someday We'll Be Together - Diana Ross & The Supremes

* * *

When I wake up, Leonard is gone.

I'm not surprised. He _had_ mentioned he would be absent in the morning. Apparently, being CMO meant a fuck load of work to do before the Enterprise sped off into space once again.

My throat aches with a certain dryness that comes with drinking enough, but not too much, and my mouth has that vile taste in it that follows a night of spirits. I curl into my bed sheets, stretching with a groan, and blink over at the glass digital clock on the white bedside table. Once I see the time, I'm practically falling out of bed, suddenly very aware that Leonard has already been gone for a few hours.

I brush my teeth, stare at the mirror, and watch my face turn a funny shade of pink when I remember the kisses, the words shared, and falling asleep to Leonard explaining why his middle name was Horatio.

I bet I snored.

I always snore after drinking.

I feel a kind of nervous elation as I potter around the apartment, PADD hanging from one hand as I sip at some coffee. In my inbox, I see a confirmation letter of my admittance to Starfleet, as well as an email from Jommin that she would have no time to see me, but sends her well wishes. The reminder of what today was makes my good mood falter, but I force myself to brush it aside.

If I felt the grief alone, right now, I would not be able to face anyone for the real goodbyes.

I change into a red dress. I love dresses. I love that it is warm enough here to even wear them. Perhaps, somehow, I was wearing red on purpose. Perhaps I wanted Leonard to remember that he would see me wearing red again; that this wasn't _it_.

I can only imagine the Enterprise crew bustling around to ready the ship, and for the first time I realise that I would most likely not be seeing the wonders of space again for another three years. I stare out of the large window, toward the insane skyline of the City, and think how fucking weird it was that I had grown so used and so fond of seeing stars beyond windows. How could I have ever known that would be something I would miss?

There is a rapping at the door, just as I throw my coffee mug into the sink, and pad over to the sliding door with bare feet and a yawn cracking my jaw. I wonder if it is Jim, or Leonard, and have a thrill of blush find my cheeks at the idea of it being the second. An awkward crone I may be at times, but I was determined not to be a weirdo 'the morning after'.

It is neither.

'Mister Scott!' I grin, genuinely pleased to see the older man in all of his red-shirted glory. In return, the fellow Brit smiles at me, before doing a funny little bow from the waist.

'Ahoy, lassie. Was wonderin' how you'd feel about grabbin' a bite to eat in the cafe downstairs?' He straightens up and smiles, and I feel almost guilty for not talking to him more about my plans to pursue a career in Engineering in Starfleet. 'Figured I could use some real food before gettin' back on my Lady Enterprise, an' I could sure as hell do with givin' you the low down on every Engineerin' instructor at the Academy'.

'You know what,' I reply, already stepping back to slip on the boots I had discarded drunkenly by the door the night before. 'That would be really bloody helpful, Scotty'.

* * *

Something I have known from my first meeting with Montgomery Scott was that I liked him. I'm not entirely sure if it was the fact that his sense of humour frequently dipped to meet mine; British and dry and dripping with irony. Sometimes, I think it was his genuine kindness, and the passion he held, and the sense that he would never, not once, judge you for anything.

One day, I would hopefully work under him. The idea gave me a thrill.

'- _Ach_ , that woman used to give me the chills. _Brilliant_ Engineer, but completely bloody _terrifyin_ ', lass-'

I smile around my dark coffee, swallow, and reply, 'Bernadetta, right?'

Scotty nods, quickly chugging back the last of his tea. 'Aye. She'll likely be teachin' you _Perspectives on Biotechnology and Genetic Engineering._ Never took the class me, but heard it's damn interestin', lassie'.

I nod, eager to know more. There is so little time to get everything out that I want to ask this man. 'From what I've read, I'll take a minor in something, too. I've heard most Engineer Majors take a minor in Helm and Navigation as a minor, but I think I'm going to take Physics. Only because I don't want to be at an utter loss when I take the Warp Theory class. Speaking of, I read the paper you wrote! I didn't understand any of it, mind, but-'

'Lass,' Scotty hums, almost snorting with laughter. 'I was so tiddly when I wrote that paper, I'm surprised _anyone_ understood it'.

That sends us both into a fit of laughter over our empty drinks, and I think I must be fucking glowing with happiness. Scotty was, almost definitely, someone I put under the 'friend' category. I never even thought something of that magnitude would be possible, months ago. I had real friends again. And not just any friend, a friend some people would _kill_ to be able to have a conversation with.

Scotty looks at his watch then, a battered looking thing with a real watch face. Another thing I liked about the man; he was old fashioned in a way that felt relatable to me. 'Others should be headin' this way soon,' he hums, looking away from his watch and back to me. Under my questioning gaze, he clarifies, 'Captain and a few others wanted to say a quick goodbye before headin' off on the Shuttles. Don't look so damn surprised, lassie. Saved a fair few of our lives with the funny things you can do, didn't ya? Family is family, and the way things are headin', we're gonna be yours one day'.

'Oh, fucking hell,' I reply. 'Don't make me _cry_ , Scotty'.

He snorts.

Perhaps it's years of repressed anxiety, or perhaps it's simple British stiff upper lip, but I feel a thrill of nervousness at the idea of Jim or _anyone_ coming to say a farewell to me. The attention was something I hated, and the idea that I might have to say goodbye to Leonard in front of anyone had my cheeks burning with embarrassment already.

'Ah, there's the Captain'.

Jim is dressed in his Command yellow, his shoulder pressed against Mister Spock's as he walks, and his blue eyes smiling along with his mouth as he greets Scotty and I. Mister Spock, in what I was learning was usual Vulcan manner, merely dips his head my way.

'Mister Scott,' Jim greets, with a flourishing sigh as he stops at our table. 'Cadet _Adams_ '. I don't really know what to say, so I instead opt for a funny little giggle that sounds nearly _strangled_. Jim looks as if he's repressing a smile of amusement. 'I take it the Enterprise is ready, Scotty?'

'Indeed, Captain. She's ready for ya'.

Jim nods. 'Good'. He must catch me glancing over his shoulder, my eyes spying out the sight of a grumpy Doctor with straight shoulders and permanent glower, because he idly states, 'Mister Sulu and Chekov made their way back to the Enterprise to ready the Helm. They do, though, send their goodbyes and good wishes. Lieutenant Uhura will be joining us soon, _as_ will Doctor McCoy'.

I'm sure _no one_ misses his tone, so I amble clumsily to sip at my empty mug and reply, ' _Cool_ '.

Mister Spock raises a slanted brow.

'If Sulu and Mister Chekov have made their way to the Enterprise, I suppose I better go to the Shuttle Bay and make sure my Engineerin' lot are readying the lass for take off, Captain'. With an exaggerated sigh, the Chief Engineer stands from the small round table with a a stretch of his arms and a look my way. 'Now then, lassie. This is goodbye for a while'.

I opt to stand also, welcoming the hug Scotty aims my way, and nod with a genuinely grateful. 'Thank you so much for everything, Scotty. You've honestly taught me so much already-'

'Ah, lass, it's nothin'. You're gonna be more than fine here, trust me on that-' I wave my hand in a 'pish posh' manner, to which the Engineer clasps my shoulder, gives me a hard look, and says, 'I'll be seein' you aboard the Enterprise in no less than four years, lassie-'

'Three,' Jim cuts in. 'I've got a bet going with myself that she'll do it in _three_ -'

'Please _God_ stop putting so much faith in me!'

'Three, then,' Mister Scott replies, squeezing my shoulder one last time before nodding to Jim and Mister Spock, and finally turning on his heel with a raised hand and a, 'Farewell for now, lassie!'

The moment he is gone, Jim wastes no time in saying, 'You'll do it in three'.

I glower. 'Y'know, it's gonna be super embarrassing for everyone involved if I _don't_ '.

He glances to Mister Spock, who bestows Jim with a hard look. I watch the two of them, momentarily confused, before Mister Spock gives the Vulcan version of a sigh, turns to me stiffly, and says, 'I have it under special knowledge that such a thing, for you, is more than doable, Miss Adams'.

I blink, and then realise. 'Ambassador Spock,' I murmur, to which the Vulcan inclines his head. 'Oh'.

Was it weird that this older version of Mister Spock knew things about me that had happened in another Universe? Yeah. Just a little. 'Well, then. It's going to be even more mortifying if I _don't_ do it in three years'.

Jim hides his laugh with a fist against his mouth and a quiet cough.

My palms itch with nervousness and dread as I think of Leonard, and where he is, and whether or not I would blub as I say goodbye. I shake the thoughts from my mind when Lieutenant Uhura arrives in her Comm red, her hair pulled back prettily and her smile shining. She greets Mister Spock with a kiss to the cheek, and Jim straightens up as if to leave.

I feel selfishly relieved that perhaps they would not be here when Leonard arrived. I feel a shock of panic that he was not coming at all, as stupid as the thought was.

'Hello,' Uhura greets, all dangling earrings and bright eyes. 'I wanted to say a quick goodbye, June, it was so lovely to meet you-'

She is cut off, of course, by _him_ , my Doctor, with his hurried steps, his quiet curses, and his rough, 'Damn supplies took an _age_ to load onto that _damn tin can_ , Jim-'

'The Enterprise,' Jim corrects, with a small ounce of genuine hurt in his voice. I muffle a snort, warmth blooming in my chest at the sight of him, all decked out in blue, his hair tidy, his jaw shaved, his eyes finding me.

'Doctor,' Spock greets, to which Leonard growls.

He stops beside us, and Lieutenant Uhura makes a show of bestowing me with a knowing, wide smile, quickly ushering on another pointed goodbye. I flush under her gaze. 'Good luck with everything, June!' She trills, pulling me into a hug. She smells like flowers. Who the fuck _naturally_ smells like flowers? 'And thank you, again,' she murmurs into my hair. She pulls away, and I think of the bunker, the cracking rocks, and what she must have seen.

I smile, nod, and reply, 'Good luck, er, _up there'_.

The three men behind us are pulled away from their bickering as Nyota Uhura curls her arm through Mister Spock's, sending his gaze to her. She tugs, and he complies. Jim, with one final hard look to Leonard, practically drags me into a hug, ignoring my muffled yelp, and says, 'Three years, Adams'.

I snort as we separate, replying, 'Aye, aye, Captain'. I keep the tears at bay. I'm quite proud of that.

'I'll hold the Shuttle, Bones,' Jim says, smacking his Doctor on the arm, and I flush under the unsaid implications of the others leaving myself and the CMO. They leave in a whizz of yellow, red and blue, and then it's us. Me and him. Leonard and I.

We stand in the middle of the quiet Bar, free of any Enterprise crew, and Leonard sighs when he turns to me, hazel eyes blank, and says, gruffly, 'I'll tale ya back to your rooms, sweetheart'.

I smile, hold my chest, and reply, 'You Southern gentleman'.

He rolls his eyes, and I grin.

He waits until we reach the elevator to hold my hand.

I wait until the doors close to reach up, smile etching my lips, and kiss his cheek.

* * *

Perhaps it would have fit the cinematic expectation of dramatic goodbyes, if I were to get on the train with the crew, all the way to where the shuttles would take them to the Enterprise. The thought of it, the entire cringe-worthy idea of so openly saying goodbye to him, makes my skin crawl. So when the door slides shut, and Leonard pauses, before turning to me, I can only smile.

I try not to cry. I really, really do. This man had seen me cry _enough_. I was starting to really fucking hate the swell of tears and the tightening of my throat that seemed to come every bloody day.

I realise how much I had missed the vision of him in his blue Medical uniform as he stands before me, jaw working and brow drawn tight, before he is taking one long step toward me and tugging me to his chest none too gently. I allow myself this one second of curling against his chest, throwing aside any pretence that I wanted to pretend to be okay with this away.

I curl my fingers against his shirt, and think how lucky I am to be able to _say_ goodbye to him at all. That singular thing had been yanked away from me before.

I am so caught up in my own struggle to keep the embarrassing tears from turning into sobs at bay, that it takes me a long moment to realise that Leonard's arms are wrapping around me tighter than ever before, and that the long inhale of breath that he takes as he hugs me sounds sharper than usual. I talk into his chest, knowing that the struggle to keep my voice level will be doing some next level unattractive things to my expression.

My voice jumps when I speak, and I squeeze my eyes shut to keep the embarrassment at bay. 'I know - I _know_ you're going to be super busy, but maybe a brief update every few days? Just so I know - so I know you're not, like, being held captive by _Romulans_ , or something?' I swallow, not waiting for him to answer. 'And please _God_ let Jim educate your music taste. It's _awful_ '.

He huffs a low laugh against my hair, and I think that's one of the top five things I'll miss. Small laughs, saved for quiet moments. I feel his fingers press into the small of my back, and his lead dips lower, before he's drawing me back so that we're looking at each other, and I watch him study my face. I look back at him, from the hazel eyes, to the sharp jaw, to the slanted nose. My chest _aches_.

'As long as you stay out of damn trouble - don't even _try_ and gimme that look. Ambassador Spock doesn't know what the heck he's signed up for'. I sniff and smile, and Leonard's expression softens somewhat. With a tight frown, he says, 'You'll be honest with me, won't ya? When you write me, or we video chat? If you're worried or feelin' like shit, or see somethin' that worries ya, you'll _tell_ me?'

I promise I will, and I think that I mean it.

His hands slip from my waist and settle on my jaw, and I clenched my fingers in his shirt with the effort not to cry even more. The tears, though wetting my cheeks, had been kept enough at bay. I knew that once I let go, I wouldn't be able to speak. I didn't want that to be my last goodbye to him for three years. He looks at me and I look at him, and neither of us make the first move. We kiss, meeting in the middle, his hands cupping my jaw, and I don't think I'll ever tire of the feel of him.

He is both soft and hard, and I want to drag him to me, to never let him go. I was so completely tired of losing people, no matter how long for. After this after he was gone, I would be alone.

Starting anew.

He pulls away first, brow furrowed, and I reach up to smooth the line with nimble fingers. 'I'll be okay,' I promise, because it takes me that long to realise that was the cause of his troubles expression. For so long he's been able to keep an eye on me. Though it once annoyed me, I got it, now. I was a fucking disaster, from my abilities to my carelessness, and his worry of inevitable. 'I _promise_ '.

We don't kiss again. We hug at the doorway, my hands gripping at the back of his shirt and his chin resting atop my head. He looks down at me, and I up at him, and it feels like a goodbye. A horrible, long goodbye tinged with hope that this would work. That three years would not damage this, or change too much. That he would be okay up there, and I down here.

He looks at me, and I look at him.

'I'll miss you,' I blurt out, as the door slides open. Something else fights to be said, but I shrug it away. The words swell in my throat; words that, it only occurs to me now, I would only ever say to him. Everyone else I might have said them to was long gone or, perhaps, never existed in this universe at all. I smile tightly and push the words away. _Not yet_ , I think. _One day._

He offers a half smile, brow cocked and shoulders straightening. 'Try not to get yourself into too much damn trouble, Adams'. I wipe my cheeks and glare at him, to which the Doctor bestows me with a straightforward look. His voice, though, is soft. 'I'll miss ya, too, sweetheart'.

My chest swells. I manage a smile. It's funny, I think, how we understood each other. There was an understanding between us; a knowing that we would wait for each other. We had, finally, come to that conclusion. 'I can't promise I'll be able to keep my hands off of Ambassador Spock. I mean, _you've_ seen the way he looks at me-'

The sorrow dissipates slightly, and Leonard rolls his eyes, shoulders sagging. He doesn't smile, but it's easy to tell when he's amused. When he looks back at me, it's with a soft kind of fondness. 'You're damn hilarious, darlin', you know that?'

'I know,' I reply.

He leaves with a kiss to my hairline after checking the hallway was clear, and a promise to message me soon. His hands bury into my red hair for just a moment, and my fingers brush his freshly shaved jaw. I promise the same, feeling the fear and the worry creep up my neck, and then he steps back, and I do too, and we share a final goodbye.

I'm sure my face does a funny spasm as I try desperately to hold back my hiccuping sob.

And then the door slides shut, and just like, I am alone. Entirely alone in a new world, one without the support of those I knew, without the support of people who understood. Without _him_. It's like deja vu, only worse. For so long, I had been so horribly bitter than I was not able to say goodbye to my family, and, really, I still. Somehow, though, there was something so much worse about the physicality of saying goodbye.

I stand there for a moment, a little lost and a little scared. Then, with fists clenched and throat bobbing with attempts to keep violent sobs at bay, I curl up onto the couch and cry.

Like, _really_ cry.

Somehow, it makes everything feel just a little better.

* * *

I curl up behind the sofa, my side against the hardwood floor. As silly as it sounds, the barrier of both the back of the sofa and the large glass window makes me feel _safe._ As if I am entirely wrapped up in the City beyond the window; as if I am child again, asleep in an unfamiliar room, on a bedroom floor, at a sleepover with friends. It really is far less depressing that it sounds. I curl with my duvet around me and a pillow under my head, and my mouth and nose buried beneath Leonard's shirt. I wonder, for perhaps the millionth time, when I became such a cliché.

The sofa sits in front of the wall-like window and, beyond, there is a sea of lights.

It is all I can see. I feel as if I'm in a bubble of darkness and lights; my room high above it all. I think that they are higher than this, the Enterprise, far away and probably beginning their journey. The world moves beyond the window. Objects whizz around the streets, people go on with their lives, and none of them know who I am. None of them know me, June Adams, 02, the girl from 2018.

Sometimes, I think, it will make me sad. It will make my heart ache to know that there are things people here, in this time, will never know as intimately as I do. Jokes will fall flat, music will exist only in my head and on an ancient, cracking device, and my family will only me memories that exist in my head. People can't know what I can do, and the nagging at the back of my head that is both curse and gift.

But sometimes, as I remake myself and start my life here, I think I might be thankful for that.

Thankful for who I am. That I am built to handle this.

Thankful, perhaps, that I have a promise of a future. Up there, away from here. On the Enterprise. With them.

With him.

Even as I cry, I manage to smile.

* * *

 **lmao HI. I'm not dead! I am so sorry for the huge wait. This chapter took so long to write, simply because I want to get onto the next four ones. I think that's how many will take up the next three years, with the next chapter most likely taking a time jump between 6 months to a year. I want to thank everyone who has kept reviewing and stuck with this story! also, I've made a Star Trek tumblr to better connect with people, and it's under _mccoyed_!**

 **And, of course, thank you to my wonderful Beta, _lawsomeantics38!_**


	35. Club Tropicana

_Let me take you to the place_  
 _Where membership's a smiling face_  
 _Brush shoulders with the stars_  
 _Where strangers take you by the hand._

Club Tropicana - Wham!

* * *

 _7 Months Later._

* * *

'Honestly, June, you can't say things like that in front of Bernadetta, she can't take a _joke_ -'

'Yeah, no shit'. I frown, yank my book-bag higher, and a huff a sigh. 'It was a _joke_. A...a few other people laughed, didn't they? I mean, she can't _force_ me to agree with her about this. It's just what I _think_ -'

'She asked you how one would make a Warp Core _stronger_ , and you replied-'

' _Do sit ups_ ,' I splutter, hopping down the last of the steps out of the Engineering Building. I glance at Thayraa, who continues to throw me a wry look, her red mouth twisted into a half judgemental smile. 'Oh, come on! I gave a serious answer afterwards! I mean, what a silly question. Why does she treat us like infants? Obviously, Warp technology has only changed in the last few years because alien intervention, malfunctions, and _obviously_ because of Scot - um, _Montgomery Scott_ , the-the Chief Engineer on the _U.S.S Enterprise_ -'

Thay throws me a funny look, one that I had become accustomed to over the past seven months. 'No shit, June. Everyone knows who Montgomery Scott is-'

'Yeah,' I cough. 'Of course. _Anyway_ , I remember hearing from, er, someone, can't remember who - ahem, that that if you mess with the Warp Drive too much, and get up to a Warp Speed that's too high, and too fast for a Federation class ship to get used to, the velocity can make a starship _destroy_ itself-'

'That's probably why she asked the question,' Thay muses, throwing her blood red hair over her shoulder. Far redder than mine, perhaps more so against her green skin. Being an Orion, and all. 'To warn us. She did say that afterwards, but you were already doodling in your notebook. Why you write and don't use your PADD, I'll never know, you weirdo-'

'Helps me retain the information better,' I mutter, throwing my friend a dirty look. 'You're no better - all you seem to do is throw Cadet Phillips heart eyes. Not that it ruins your grades at all,' I grumble, knowing full well that Thay was top of the class. 'I don't know how you do it'.

'I'm a genius,' she states.

'You're a nightmare'.

Thay grins, dark green lips stretched wide, and asks her usual Friday afternoon question. 'Are we going out tonight?'

Another joy of being in the future. The bars were _great_. I had never returned to the 80's themed one Leonard and I had found, though. I didn't want to tarnish the night with any other experiences. Thay had, though, introduced me to many other places. Her mother, she told me, was Orion, and her father was Human. Because of that, she had grown up in San Fran for nearly all of her life, and therefore knew _all_ of the good places to go. I'll admit, the first few weeks at the Academy had been a lot of dodging peoples' invitations to go anywhere, too frightened that I would slip up, but Thay had, somehow, become something like a best friend to me.

I throw her a sideways glance, and answer her question how I usually did. 'Probably. But later. Come to my Dorm around six - that way we can quickly go over notes. I need to make sure I'm on the right track'.

Thay rolls her eyes, used to my usual dodging of disappearing for a short while after classes on a Friday. 'Let me guess - you're not having a late one, because you have _tutoring_ in the morning?'

'I _do_!' I reply, crossing the road with her. She casts me a side eye, and I raise my brows. 'I don't know why you're giving me that look'. Technically, I did have a form of tutoring. Thay didn't have to know that it was with a Vulcan from another Universe, who was teaching me the pros of meditation of calming one's mind. Sometimes, I was even able to show him things I could do. Sometimes, _sometimes_. Ambassador Spock would almost smile.

It always seemed rather sad, though. As if he was remembering something from long ago, every time I quipped an awkward joke or tried to ask him about the Other Me. The Other June.

'Whatever,' Thay replies. 'But tomorrow, I really want to try that new VR game that Ellen has. Promise you'll come over? We can study afterwards?' That, I will not turn down. If bars in the future were amazing, then games were _next level_.

'You know I can't say no to that,' I mutter, to which Thay grins widely.

We separate on the second floor of the dorm-rooms. Thay carries on up the elevator, but I step off on the second floor and smile politely at my neighbours. This floor was the quieter floor, where special requests for single rooms were granted. Admittedly, you had to have a good reason for wanting a single apartment, such as having a kid, or being ill, but mine had been _forced_ upon me. It was one of the agreements myself and Starfleet had come to, so many months ago. I could attend the Academy, if I agreed to not have a dorm-mate.

Less chance of slipping up.

Sometimes, it made me sad. It got quite lonely, at times. Though, Thay enjoyed the fact that I would often bundle into her bed, with her. Humans, she stated, could be so cold and unwillingly to cuddle an Orion. I, she relayed, was nothing of the sort.

I didn't have the heart to tell her at the time, that this was because I had only known what an Orion was for a short few months. Instead, I had beamed and replied that thee years in, she would be fighting to get rid of me.

I enter my room with a swipe of my fingers and dump my book-bag ungracefully at the entrance. The door slides shut behind me, and I breathe a little sigh of relief. My room was decorated much like my room at Oxford, with small mirrors, little posters of things I had decided I liked in this time, and an array of old books from second-hand shops. There were no pictures, something of which I would always cram my room with. I had no pictures or holos to hang anywhere, as it was.

Above my small double bed, somewhere of which I walk toward, there is my timetable. The old June would detest the idea of a timetable, but the June of this time, the Starfleet June with abilities to move shit with her mind, she relied on knowing what came next.

Mondays were simple, with classes in the morning, study hour in the afternoon, and book club in the evening. A club which Jim, in all his loveliness, had insisted I join. Around fits of laughter through the PADD screen and his insistence that _he really, really thought he was a good idea, he wasn't laughing, he promised._ Thay and Ellen, on the other hand, had not been so kind. They could not understand why I collected physical books. Apparently, the idea was entirely outdated.

Tuesdays were filled from 9AM until 6PM with classes, and by the time evening came, I would eat and sleep.

Wednesday mornings were free, and in this time, I would meditate and…practice. This, of course, was something I should not be doing without Ambassador Spock's knowledge. The Vulcan, though, had told me with a quiet kind of knowing that if I wished to do such a thing, he was sure everything would be quite fine. So, on those mornings, I would flex my brain in the way that Bates had told me to do. It is quite terrifying to admit how easy it has become. There is, though, no real opportunity to _truly_ flex my abilities.

Thursdays are spent in classes, and revising, and practising practical Bio-Engineering. I even volunteer shadowing trainee Medical Officers twice a month. It's not just Leonard. They are all grumpy assholes. Those evenings, I would usually meditate with Ambassador Spock through holocomm (a fascinating and terrifying piece of technology), whilst he told me what he could of the June of his time, the way her abilities had developed, and always without giving too much away.

Saturday mornings were spent again talking with Ambassador Spock via holo, then meeting with the few friends I had, and then going to the Gym.

Sundays were a day of me. A day of writing memories that I would not forget and studying a world I was still learning. From History, to Geography, to Pop-Culture.

Fridays, like today, are spent in class. The evenings, before meeting with Thay and others (I steered clear from become too close with too many. It was one of the sacrifices), I did this.

I spoke to him.

I throw myself onto my bed, my red skirt hitching up uncomfortably, and my shoes land with dull thuds against the floor. My door is locked - that much I had already checked. Thay had almost walked in on my private conversations once before, and there was no way I was ready to fill my friend in on the long, drawn out reason behind why I was videoing the famous Leonard McCoy, CMO of the _U.S.S Enterprise._

I was sure I would tell her, one day. Not yet, though. It was safer for her to _not_ know.

I have hardly found his name on my PADD, amongst the few I had, before the tone I had chosen for incoming calls (a jangling, ascending one) bursts quietly from my PADD. I swipe left quickly, still not used to how quickly things like this worked in this time. His face fills the screen, his hair wild and his eyes tired, but he smiles all the same when he sees me, and I at him.

'Doctor McCoy,' I greet.

'Cadet Adams,' he replies.

It was a habit that we couldn't seem to break. A joking hello I looked forward to every Friday of every week. It was the only time we had clarified would work best for the both of us. It was rare, but happened, that we spoke face to face like this, other than that. 'You're ruffled,' I tell him, turning to shift my pillows behind me and settle back. 'I turn to the screen, propped against my bent knees, and cock a brow. 'Go on. Give me the low down on the _morons_ of the Enterprise'.

He does. Accent rolling and eyes flying sky high, my grumpy Doctor fills me in on the latest Engineering idiots, the away mission that had ended with Jim singeing off one of his eyebrows (Leonard manages a quick grin when I snort loudly at that), and the patient Leonard had nearly poisoned because the 'moron' hadn't told anyone he was allergic to certain hypos.

I bite the side of my mouth and try to listen, remembering how awkward the first few conversations like this had been. There had been the underlying knowledge that we had never stated what we were, that this could not even be labelled a 'long distance relationship', but that neither one of us wanted to stop whatever it was.

'Any mishaps today, sweetheart?'

A common question, believe it or not. The first two months, around about, of being an official Cadet, I had almost let slip things I really shouldn't have a good dozen times. There had been one instant involving every single light bursting on my floor after a particularly avid nightmare that had me spending every evening for a month (over the usual bi-weekly, as in twice a week) in a meditation session with Ambassador Spock over video or in person.

'Nothing terrible,' I reply, yanking the hairband from my hair. Zigzagging curls fall around my face, and I ruffle my hair. Leonard watches closely, and I suppress a smile. 'A joke falling flat with a _merry_ instructor, but that's about it. I'm starting to think I'm not half as funny as you led me to believe, Leonard'. I grin when he responds drily, going about shrugging off my stiff as a board Cadet jacket, leaving me in my black undershirt. 'I don't know how you wore these things - they're _awful_ -'

'And yet,' Leonard replies, leaning back in his chair and allowing me to see that he is in his Office. 'You do pull it off well, sweetheart'. He does that half-smirk, the one that I am sure very few get to see, and I am sure I turn a lovely shade of maroon.

'Stop,' I mumble, fighting a smile.

'-Even better with it _off_ now, I gotta say-'

I hold my hands in front of my face and snort, my cheeks red and my smile wide. 'Stop it! You _know_ I don't know what the hell to say when you say stuff like that!' He laughs, rumbling and deep, and I think of how few times I had actually heard such a thing, even when I had last seen him, face to face. Such a thing felt like years ago, not months. I glare at him, drawing my hands form my face. 'You know, if we were face to face and I wasn't tired from classes, I could sweet talk your ass off'.

'Oh, _darlin_ ', I know'.

I have the horrible feeling he is mocking me, so I tell him, 'Ambassador Spock told me yesterday that he's going to visit again'. I had, since meeting with him seven months ago, seen the Vulcan twice in person since then. Every other meeting was via hologram, as over half the time he was away on New Vulcan. A place, I knew, that replaced the utter decimation of Mister Spock's home planet. Both times, Ambassador Spock had taken me somewhere more desolate, and allowed me to practice my abilities with short requests and orders on how to calm my mind and control myself better. 'I feel...stronger, since he was last here'.

Leonard is serious again, his nod short. 'As long as he ain't pushin' you too hard-'

'He isn't,' I promise, calm and used to Leonard's fretting. I'm not sure how Jim puts up with it. 'I think he's taking it so slow because he knows I need to...well, you know how I always compare it to working out? Like that. I need to stretch it and stuff before I can fully control it. I haven't burst anymore lights, anyway!' I grin, and Leonard huffs. 'Any super _interesting planets_ coming your way that you _can't_ tell me about?' Leonard stares, and I cluck my tongue. 'Oh, sounds _riveting_!'

He goes on to tell me that Jo's Birthday had been and gone, and he assures me he had wished his daughter a Happy Birthday from me, too. Chekov, he said, asked frequently about me (his tone his bemusedly gruff), and Jim seemed more of a Captain every day. 'Think he might actually be turnin' into an adult,' Leonard grouses, to which I reply,

'Never'.

There are things unsaid, as always. Things that I would have once said to him with ease, but I now keep quiet. Seven months does a lot of damage, so the idea of telling him that when I had last visited Maria Atwood, she had not spoken to me once. She had just watched me, eyes sad and cheekbones sallow, and the Security had informed me she was refusing to eat. I don't tell him that often, when I meditated, the distance dripping I felt in my subconscious felt like the Void. That, I had not even told Ambassador Spock.

I don't tell him that I desperately miss not maintaining an act every day, despite how close I might feel to individuals like Thay. I don't tell him that I hate filing a weekly report to Admirals' Lee and Akatchi, and that my vid-chats with Ambassador Spock are almost certainly watched by outside eyes. I don't tell him that I had heard whispers of Khan, once, when I visited the Admiral Lee, as others within her inner circle had watched me.

I don't tell him that I work myself into tears so that my time at the Academy will be three, and not four.

'I miss you,' I tell him, memorising the lines of his face and the jump of his jawline.

'I miss ya, too, sweetheart'.

* * *

Ambassador Spock seems to grow more wrinkled the more that I talk to him.

He faces me, back straight and holo standing in the middle of my room. He insists we talk like this, so that he can show me the proper way to sit as we meditate. I quite like it, really. I think if I were just talking to his face, it would make the whole ordeal even more uncomfortable.

He seems to out of place in my rooms, and I am more than thankful that he cannot see my surroundings, as I cannot see his. Either way, we both sit opposite each other, backs straight and hands on our crossed legs, and the Vulcan states, slowly, 'You appear well-rested today, Cadet Adams'.

I nod, praying as always that these sessions would go faster. 'I slept pretty well last night,' I tell him. 'I met up with friends, as usual. I didn't even make a glass fly off of the table this time'.

He does that weird Vulcan smile that isn't really a smile at all. 'Progress.' I do a Human smile. 'You have visited Maria Atwood again, as you stated you would?' I nod, he carries on. 'How does she seem?'

He asks questions like this, sometimes. Questions that make my skin crawl and make my mind work in overdrive. Sometimes, I wondered if Ambassador Spock knew things that he should probably be warning us about. Sometimes, I wondered if he did not want to mess with time any more than he already had. Sometimes, I wondered if he knew that we needed to experience certain things.

I answer truthfully. 'Sick. She's too skinny. She doesn't...speak to me anymore'. I smile ruefully. 'It's almost like old times'.

Ambassador Spock does not smile. He simply inclines his head. 'I see. Now, today, I would like to ask you about the Void.' I jerk, eyes flying to his, and gape for a moment. Ambassador Spock tilts his head in a manner that iis sarcastic, and yet now sarcastic at all. 'Do you not refer to it as such in this timeline, Cadet Adams?'

I flounder, before scrambling to nod. _Not so secret after all, huh?_ 'No. I - Well, honestly, Ambassador, I wasn't aware anyone outside of Leonard and I knew that I sometimes...visited the Void. Do you...do you know much about it?' _More than I do, I hope._ 'Or is this one of things that I have to _learn myself?'_

His smile is more obvious this time. Eyes always so sad, though. 'In this case, Cadet Adams, it is. I will, though, tell you this. You, and I refer to the you of my own timeline, become both friend and enemy of the place you will know only as the Void. I have heard from younger self that you have used this place to your advantage before, to communicate with both himself and James Kirk'. I keep my lips sealed about mine and Leonard's nighttime dalliances in the Void. 'I will tell you this, though I am sure you have figured out as much yourself, Cadet Adams. This Void is an extension of the Portal you once closed. It is neither the beginning nor end of your abilities, but a place in which you may visit through them. It is somewhere that you can manipulate, but never fully control. I understand, from the years of knowing you, that you must merely understand it, respect it, and allow itself to do the same to you'.

* * *

It is five weeks later I receive a different video call.

I know it is different, because with a blurry glance at my clock, I see that it is 4:37 AM. I scramble to answer when I see Leonard's name flashing upon the screen, my mouth dry and my room a pitch black.

'One second,' I rasp, scrambling over the bed and the PADD to find my bedside light. I hear the audio on the screen flare to life. 'One sec, one sec, one sec-' I find the light, and cringe against it as I drag myself into an upright position, my PADD coming with me. I am sure my hair is a wreck and my face is lined with creases from my pillow, but I blink into awake when I see the ruffled and drawn look of Leonard.

My heart sinks. I blink hard. 'What's happened? Are you okay?'

He struggles for a moment; in a way that I have not seen him do so in months, since before even the bunker. His hair is an utter disarray, and his collar has a dark stain on it. My stomach twists. 'Leonard-?'

'I lost a kid'.

It takes me a moment to realise what he means. That, no, he didn't _physically_ lose someone. A few profanities whisk through my head at an alarming rate as I attempt to remember how to be a normal, functioning human being who knows what to say in moments like this. With him, with Leonard, is was fractionally easier to know what to say, given the history of us leaning on one another. I scramble for a moment, heart hammering and fingers ghosting the screen, before I reply quietly. 'Tell me what happened, Len'.

And, somehow, I know that is what he will want to hear. No empty words of sorry, because no matter how sorry he knows I am, he also knows that I didn't know this person. I didn't use my hands to try and give this child, this living thing, life. I did not fail, and I did not watch them die. Leonard McCoy, no matter how silent he can be, is a man who understands words speak louder than actions, at times like this.

He scrambles for words, eyes downcast and jaw clenched. 'From some planet - whole village was damn starvin'. People in charge weren't doin' shit to help the poorer parts...' He shakes his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and I watch. I think, for the first time, that this is the first time I have ever truly _hated_ the distance between us. His voice hitches. 'Skin and bones. Kid had...no chance'.

I stare, helpless and lost and itching to touch him. 'I don't have to tell you that it wasn't your fault'. Perhaps it would be easier if I could touch him. Perhaps my words wouldn't struggle to come out and hang between us if I could hold his tough hands, or touch his cheek, or cradle his jaw between my palms. 'God,' I breathe, voice hitching as I stare helplessly at him. He looks back, gaze on mine through pixels and space. 'I wish I could just fucking _hug_ you'.

He shakes his head, smile rueful.

'Death...it's an inevitable part of life. I mean, _you_ know that'. Despite how low my voice is, it sounds deafening in my dimly lit room. 'And you...it's so fucking true for you, because _you_ have to deal with it on a regular basis, Len. I mean, I don't know how you do it...except, I guess, I kinda _do_. You're the strongest person I know - have _ever_ known'. He watches me, and that nagging that I am talking utter shite creeps to the back of my mind, but I push it away. 'It's _gonna_ have a negative effect on you sometimes. I can't...I can't understand what it's like to have someone's life _literally in your hands_. I know you're sad, and I know it's shit, but it wasn't your fault. All you can do is _grieve_ , I guess'. I stare and shrug, face hot and mouth snapping shut. 'And know that you did all that you could.'

He stares and stares, so long that I think maybe the vid has frozen, until his shoulders sag, his hands fly to his forehead, and he is breathing roughly out of his mouth. 'Sometimes, I'll lose someone, and it's awful. But times like this, when it wasn't _sickness_ or anything damn inevitable...it was just _cruelty_ -' His voice cracks, and my hand flies for the screen, and I feel momentarily stupid.

I let him sit like that for a while, until I try and don my firmest voice and order him to return to his rooms. 'Jim will have given you the morning off,' I murmur, when his calls me again, a mere few minutes later, and I see that he is now standing in his bedroom. ' _Please_ try and sleep, Leonard'.

He does, and for the first time, we prop our PADD's up, and I tell him stories of my time, of politics and celebrities and climate and science. I think of how my mum comforted my dad when his father died. I think of her soft words, her small distractions. Leonard lies on his back now, his PADD on his bedside table, and I watch his eyes flutter, his chest level, until, finally, he is asleep. His brow is, however, scrunched.

I hang up and bite the skin of my hand so hard that I draw blood.

* * *

 **I want to thank everyone who has kept reviewing and stuck with this story! I'm so happy so many of you reviewed the lasyt chapter! Also, I've made a Star Trek tumblr to better connect with people, and it's under _mccoyed_! Don't be afraid to send me messages on there, be it questions or anything you think I could do differently! **

**And, of course, thank you to my wonderful Beta, _lawsomeantics38,_ who I hope feels better soon!**


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